Finding Normal
by nanirain
Summary: "Come on, Lance. It as cute when we were teenagers. But now..." She'd been expecting him to stop her, she just hadn't expected him to kiss her that hard. [Lancitty][others] The X-Mansion wakes one morning to find their powers are gone, and must figure out what's happened without revealing their new weakness to their enemies. But in certain cases, 'enemy' seems hard to qualify...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: X-men Evolution fic, set 2 to 3 years after Ascension.

Mostly an excuse for me to get my _Lancitty_ out. Also: Romy, Jott, others.

* * *

The same dream again. A city spread out below her, lit up like Christmas – the kind of view that made passengers stare down out of airplane windows. But Kitty Pryde wasn't in a plane. She was flying. The warm summer night wrapped around her like a second skin, tears skimmed in her eyes against the wind. She glided between skyscrapers and through bridges, weightless, free. The rush was crazy.

Then, in the distance, sirens. The faintest, keening wail. Shadowcat pirouetted over the city bridge, looking for the source. Around her the city was quiet, bright. She couldn't catch a glimpse of disturbance, not even a flickering of light. The sound was growing louder, but she still couldn't pinpoint a direction. The trill sharpened along the inside of her skull. Almost as if it weren't part of the city at all, but instead a part of her. Almost as if it were coming from…

Kitty slapped the snooze button without opening her eyes or rolling over. Alarm clocks. She hated alarm clocks. But she loved pillows, she thought as she nuzzled deeper into hers. Whoever invented pillows needed to be medaled. And alarm clocks, slaughtered.

She barely managed to drift back into her dream when the alarm went off again. Surely that wasn't a whole ten minutes? With a groan, she moved her hand to phase through the clock and short it out altogether. Her hand met resistance on the snooze button. Kitty frowned in her half-sleep, raising her hand and trying again. _Thump_.

Kitty lifted her head off, peering drowsily at her dresser. Her hand rested solidly over the device. She sat up, picked up the analog clock and holding it in both hands. It looked normal enough, but she couldn't pass through it. Maybe she was still dreaming? Gazing at it, the sleep eventually cleared from her mind and she registered the time.

"Ack!" She chucked the alarm back on the table and threw the sheets off. Late. She was so late. And she had a class discussion to lead for Professor Pierce second period. Why she'd agreed to TA in the first place… it wasn't as if she didn't have enough going on with all her other classes and not to mention her X-Men responsibilities, Kitty muttered to herself as she stripped off her pajamas and turned on the shower to her en-suite bathroom. It was one of the many perks of having been at the institute so long: her own bedroom, and with it, an en suite bathroom. Gone were the days of having to wait for the shower to be freed up in the mornings, or of having to scrape Kurt's blue fuzz out of the drain. As Kitty had transitioned into college life, she and others of her age group had come to be more like instructors than pupils at the institute – the X Mansion had gradually changed from feeling like a boarding school to her real home.

'_Jean?' _She sent a mental ping to her usual ride. If the telepathic redhead left without her, Kitty would have to catch the bus and then a train into town. She might miss the first half of first period. If only Logan had agreed to let her have her own car… something that she was still working on, six years after her driving lessons with him had begun. '_Hey, Jean?' _Kitty tried again. '_I overslept my alarm, but I'm on my way down-' _a little white lie, but she was rushing so… '_do you mind waiting a few extra for me?'_

Nothing. No response. What if Jean had left already and was out of telepathic range? Kitty hurriedly shut off the water, and went to phase through the shower curtain and bath. Every saved second counted.

Her shin banged painfully against fiberglass. She yelped, wheeled forward, and grabbed at the curtains that were also very real and tangible in her hands. They held her for a moment before giving way. Kitty face planted onto the bathmat, naked, wet, bruised, and wrapped in her own shower curtain.

She sat up slowly, disentangling herself, and looked down at her bloody shin, her stomach knotting with sudden anxiety. "What the?" What was the deal with her this morning? First the alarm clock and now this? She stood up slowly and reached for her towel, wrapping it around herself. She walked over to the bathroom door, pressing her hand firmly against it. She focused on her powers, the way Xavier had first taught her when she was fifteen and barely had any control over when and where her phasing manifested.

Nothing happened.

Kitty leaned on the door, putting all her weight on the one hand. She took a deep, centering breath and closing her eyes, imagining that the door was turned to water, focusing on the sensation of falling and slipping through it. And gradually, like sinking into thick mud, she started to phase.

But it was difficult. It hurt almost, and it was definitely hard to breathe, even as she continued to phase through. She could feel the pressure of the door all around her, trying to close up over her, to be solid again. For one, heart-stopping moment, Shadowcat thought she was going to be stuck only halfway through. If her form hardened mid-way, she would kill herself – death by bathroom door.

'_Easy, Pryde,_' she censured herself. '_What would you tell one of the new kids? Keep calm. Focus on the task. Don't freeze up.' _

It felt like it took her a full minute to get through, but she did. Still, she turned around to look at it uneasily. Something was wrong. She looked down at the hand that had lead her way through the door and saw that her fingers were trembling. She shoved the fear aside. It was time to find clothes, get to school, and if her powers weren't back by later tonight, she'd talk to the Professor. Decided then.

She rushed to her dresser, threw on white jean shorts, a lacey blush camisole and her lightest cardigan. She dug the comfy skater sneakers Evan had given her last Christmas out of her closet in case she had to do any running to class, grabbed her bag and opened her door the old-fashioned way. She jogged downstairs and through the main hall to try and find Jean.

What she ended up finding was chaos.

Packed in the foyer, and out on the lawn, what looked like all the kids of the Xavier Institute were standing together, looking nervous, and talking agitatedly.

"What's all this?" The Mississippi twang identified Rogue without Kitty having to turn around. "Did ah miss a memo?"

Kitty looked back toward her friend and former roommate. Rogue's hair had grown out since their high school days, and was swept back in a messy bun, her egret white bangs teased at her cheekbones. A green and yellow plaid button up hung off her pale shoulders, over a black corset top. The southern belle came up beside Kitty to look down into the foyer, hands on her hips, eyebrow quirked.

"I have a bad feeling I know what's going on," Kitty said, watching Jubilee stand in a corner and scowl at her hands. Every once and a little pink spark would jump between Jubilee's fingertips, but nothing more than that. Definitely not the fireworks that the young mutant could usually summon. Beside her, Bobby was staring intently at a cup of water. Kitty turned to Rogue. "Have you touched anyone today?"

Rogue looked back blankly.

"I mean like, since this morning, have you touched anyone? By accident or…"

"No, did _you _take a bunch of drugs? Do you remember who ah _am_?" Rogue held up a gloved hand, as if to remind Kitty about her powers.

Kitty reached out and grabbed Rogue's fingers instead. "C'mon, I think we need to find the Professor." Kitty started to run back down the main hall, dragging Rogue behind her. "I hope he's in his office. If he's isn't, I don't know how we're going to find him."

"Why can't you just reach out to him telepathically like always?" Rogue said, exasperatedly taking her hand back, but still following after Kitty at a light jog.

They'd already reached the mahogany double doors of Xavier's office. They were closed, and Kitty tried twisting the handle. "Ugh, locked." She knocked rapidly on the door. "Professor? It's Kitty and Rogue. Are you there?"

" You _have _gone crazy," Rogue said, starting to look concerned. "Ah can't remember the last time ah saw you knock on a door."

A heavy lock flipped over, and the door swung open. Scott's ruby quarts glasses looked down at her grimly.

"Hey," he said. "You too?"

"Since this morning."

"Kitty, Rogue," Xavier's calming voice summoned them inside, "please come in. I'm glad you came."

Inside, the Professor, Storm, Wolverine and the other X-Men who were Kitty's generation and up sat rigidly in chairs and on tables. Scott went over to sit by Jean on the couch. Kurt was perched on the edge of Xavier's desk. Kitty stared at his holowatch laying discarded on the tabletop, the fuzzy man's skin was peach hued and smooth.

"Alright, _what's_ going on?" Rogue said, following Kitty into the room, aware at this point that she was missing something. "Why do y'all look like a buncha fat birds on turkey day?"

"Figured she wouldn't have noticed," Logan muttered to Charles.

"Noticed what?"

"Take off your gloves, kid," Logan said, "try touching anyone in this room."

Rogue looked at Wolverine like he'd sprouted a second head and started reciting Shakespeare at her.

"Mornin' Cher," Remy materialized behind Rogue, putting a hand on her shoulder and leaning down to her ear.

The Mississippian turned, startled, and the Cajun leaned just an inch further in so that their lips just barely brushed as she turned.

Kurt raised his eyebrows at Kitty. Wolverine rolled his eyes, muttering some comment about no good womanizing thieves.

"Are you crazy!" Rogue shoved Remy back, stumbling back and covering her mouth with her hands. Then she stopped, her eyes widening just fractionally when Gambit didn't sway or collapse.

"See, Cher? I always told you one kiss won't do us no harm," the Cajun winked, his voice smooth and smoky.

"What… what's going on?" Rogue stammered, turning around to look Professor X in the eyes.

"Your powers," Xavier said, widening his gaze to look at the entire room, "_all_ of our powers, they seem to be gone."


	2. Chapter 2

"_Gone_?"

"Gone, or severely weakened, at least it seems for the time being."

"But… _how_?"

"We don't know yet," Xavier said. "Hank is in the lab as we speak, looking at blood samples from Storm, Logan and myself. So far, he hasn't found any abnormalities."

"Wait, a minute, Professor," Kitty interrupted. "Your blood too? You mean, like, you're also…?"

"Yes, Kitty. My powers have also waned. Whatever's causing this, it seems to be affecting us all. In fact, while several of you have been able to retain traces of your powers, mine seem to have dwindled down entirely. I couldn't read your mind right now, even if you wanted me to."

Kitty felt her lips part in slight shock. The idea of Professor X not being telepathic was… almost unreal.

"When did this happen?" Rogue asked, still shocked.

"I noticed it first thing this morning, before dawn," Logan said. "Woke up feeling like crap, couldn't smell or hear anything worth a damn. Went into the danger room for a training session, and that's when it got real obvious real quick."

Kitty looked at Logan, concerned. Wolverine didn't seem to have any visible wounds on him, but she hoped he hadn't found out that his healing abilities were gone the hard way.

"My powers were fine last evening," Jean said. "I was moving a couch into Bobby's room with my telepathy. This morning I couldn't even lift my hairbrush off the dresser."

"That explains why you didn't hear me earlier," Kitty said absently. "Don't worry, no biggie," she added, as Jean looked over at her, concerned.

"_I_ noticed as soon as I looked in the mirror," Kurt said. He stretched out his peachy arm and looked at it, as if he didn't quite believe it was real. "My fur's all gone. And I can't teleport at all. It's miserable." Kitty noticed that while Kurt's skin had gone hairless, small fangs still caught at the outer edges of his lips when he grimaced.

"We've all tried to use our powers and failed," Evan said. "It blows."

"I tried to phase through a door this morning," Kitty said, remembering with a shiver the strange, claustrophobic feeling it had given her, like suffocating in mud. "It felt like sinking into quicksand, and it took me about five minutes. I've been using doorknobs since then."

"Kitty brings up a point," Xavier said. "For those of you whose powers have a more physical manifestation, you should probably be cautious about trying to reawaken them without another X-Man nearby." He seemed to look particularly at Scott, Rogue, and Kitty. "If you should lose control during the effort or should your powers resurface unexpectedly, you could become a danger to both to yourselves and to others around you. It would probably be best to take extra precautions until we work this out."

"I'm leaving these on," Scott spoke up, tapping at his sunglasses. "The last thing I need is for my powers to come back and I take out a building or kill someone. I just don't understand what could have happened to _all_ of us."

"What I want to know," Logan said, "isn't the _how_ by the _why_ part of that question. How far spread is this thing? Are all mutants losing their powers, or is it just us?"

"I've had my ear to the ground since this came to my attention," Xavier said. "I've heard noting about other known mutants losing their abilities. It's possible that we are the only ones to have been affected by this."

"You've got to be kidding me," Kitty sank onto the arm of the couch. "So now we're the freaks of the freaks?"

"We can't be sure of anything, Kitty," Xavier replied. "I said I've had my ears to the ground, not that I've been actively searching for other mutants. Considering our current state, I don't think it's entirely wise to be asking obvious questions – it might advertise our vulnerabilities to those less friendly toward us."

"The Professor's right. If someone like, say, Magneto, or even the government members of the Mutant Registration Act found out that we don't have our powers anymore, we may as well paint a big red X on our foreheads," Cyclops said.

"So, what do we do?" Rogue asked.

"Go about your lives," Xavier replied. "Be discrete and be careful. Hank and I will inform you as soon as we know anything."

"Alright, so we go on living like normal until McCoy find out what's wrong with us," Evans said, with some forced relaxedness. "Sounds easy."

"Easy for _you_ maybe," Kurt whined, "I've never climbed so many stairs in my life! I didn't even know the mansion _had_ so many stairs."

"One more thing," Xavier said. "I must stress that you all be extremely careful with sharing this knowledge. You powers could come back at any time, as suddenly as they left – don't put yourself in reckless positions. And, above all, try to make sure that none of the younger children expose themselves as being powerless. Some of them have friends and family who know about their powers – but they musn't share this even with them. For now, we want to keep this as contained as possible, for all our safeties. I'll be going down to the lab now to work with Hank. Let's agree to meet again tonight, after dinner."

As the room began to file out, Kitty managed to exit alongside Jean. "Hey, so… are you going to school?" she asked.

Jean looked surprised, as if she had only just remembered that school was a thing. "Oh, actually I was planning on going down to the lab with the Professor and McCoy. I don't have my doctorate yet, but I thought I could help them out – I've already worked in the genetics labs at school."

"Oh, right," Kitty said, dropping behind. "That's cool."

"Sorry, Kitty. Take you in tomorrow?"

"Sure," Kitty watched the redhead disappear down the hall. "Thanks." Thanks, except she wasn't leading a discussion tomorrow, she was leading one today. Kitty pulled out her phone, checking the time. The train wouldn't get her there in time now – what she needed was a car. And that left her with only one option. Biting her lip, she started to punch in the number and listened to it ring. She was pretty sure he'd do it, but she hated to be the first one to call after a fight. She waited for a few nervous seconds, wondering if she'd be kicked to voicemail. She sure wasn't going to leave a message for his living mates to find and use as blackmail.

"_What_?" The voice that picked up sounded groggy and thick with sleep.

Kitty rolled her eyes. "Hey, it's me. Are you awake?" She could hear the confused pause on the other end, could practically see him fitting the pieces together, and then the muffled sounds of him rolling himself of bed.

"Kitty?"

"Yeah?" To be fair, she couldn't blame him for being confused. The last time they'd spoken might have been when she was dragging an injured Cyclops out from the building he'd smashed over them, and swearing to him that it was over.

More rustling. The sound of sheets moving against the speaker before his voice came back again, sounding more awake. "Hey, what's up?"

"Nothing. Well, actually… I kind of need a favor."

XXX

The Jeep rolled up to the X gates and Kitty practically ran for the passenger door, throwing it open and climbing inside. She was running late, and she also didn't want to risk being seen climbing into this particular car.

Sat the driver's seat was young man in a faded Rock n Roll T-shirt and the same beat up jeans he'd been wearing since high school. Sometimes Kitty thought he only had one pair. But while his clothes and car hadn't changed much since Bayville High, Lance's body had definitely matured. His dark chocolate hair was still fell into his dark eyes, but the jaw below it had squared out, his chest was fuller against the black cotton of his shirt. Lance's body had broadened out from lanky teenage angles into broad planes of muscle that made girls turn their head. And while the face was still the same as the orphan's Kitty had met in Illinois, but it had hardened somehow, become more powerful and compelling. In general, Kitty tried not to notice that. Lance had been enough of a distraction for her even before he'd been labeled eye candy by the female population. She didn't need another facet of complication.

"Hey," she said a bit awkwardly, climbing into the car. There was a coffee cup in the cup holder, still hot. The plastic was ringed with grime from she didn't want to know what. The Jeep smelled like old vinyl, stale coffee, and very faintly of explosives. She decided not to ask about that.

"Hey," he said back. A couple beats of awkward silence as he pulled down the drive. "How are you?"

"Stressed," Kitty said. "I have to lead a discussion second period. I've barely prepared _and _I'm going to be late." _Also, my powers aren't working and I have no idea why or when they're ever going to come back_. _But I'm not telling _you _that_.

"You signed up for _more_ school work?" Lance said, quirking a slight smile. "What a great idea."

Kitty smiled back, relieved that their natural conversation was starting to pick up again. "Shut up, Lance."

They may have not have spoken in weeks, but fighting with Lance was usually like this: one night of vicious fighting and wet pillows, then a week or sometimes a month of silence, until that first awkward phone call or run-in on the street and then both of them silently agreeing to pretend like nothing had happened, no matter how they'd sworn to each other that they were through.

"Thanks for giving me a ride," Kitty said. "Sorry if I woke you up."

"You didn't," Lance said, pulling out of the institute driveway. "I've been awake."

Kitty smiled and rolled her eyes, choosing not to comment on the coffee. "Well, I guess if you were already awake, you've had breakfast, and you don't want this thank-you muffin that I – "

Lance grabbed the muffin out of her hands. It was halfway to his open mouth when he hesitated, squinting at it. "Uh, wait. Did you make this yourself?"

"No, I bought them from the store. I don't have time to bake anymore. Why?"

"Jus wundrin," Lance said around a mouthful of blueberry muffin.

"Would it have mattered if I _had_ made it?" Kitty asked.

"Nope," Lance said firmly, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. She thought he swallowed a bit too hard for it to just be muffin he was keeping down. Kitty narrowed her eyes at him.

"Which way is your school again?"

"Turn left," Kitty pointed, putting her seat belt on as the Jeep revved and the wind rushed through her hair.

XXX

"Kitty, seriously, turn that off."

"No way! It's mid-song, and besides you can't just switch off Adele. She's sacred! "

"Not in my Jeep she's not," Lance said, pushing Kitty's hand out of the way and hitting a radio preset. Adele's throaty crooning was replaced by keening electric guitars and deep-throated screaming.

Kitty covered her ears and stuck out her tongue. "Ugh, what is this? Like, punk?"

"It's like, punk, Pretty Kitty." Lance said, putting his kneecaps on the steering wheel and starting to play the air guitar to the song.

"Lance! Hands on the wheel!" Kitty laughed even as her heart leapt up into her throat. "Pay attention to the road! And your music sucks!"

She thought she saw his smile widen at the sound of her laughing. He always had loved making her smile. Unfortunately, he usually didn't know when funny crossed the line into being too much. He leaned back into his seat."Loosen up, Kitty! Admit it, this is _way_ better than your sugary pop!" Lance's fingers worked furiously at the imaginary frets. If she weren't so busy trying to get him to drive properly, she'd be impressed. Neither of them noticed the Jeep's gradual drift into the other lane as they went around a corner.

"Your music makes my ears bleed!" Kitty teased, laughing despite herself. "It's so badthat I -_ Lance, that's a car!_ _Lance_!" Kitty grabbed the dashboard, willing the car to phase out. Her powers fizzled and died in her hands. Nothing. They were solid, and heading towards another very solid oncoming vehicle.

Lance looked up through his dark bangs, saw the tractor-trailer and grabbed the wheel, veering right just in time. Kitty fell sideways against her seat belt into his shoulder, and the Jeep pulled off the highway entirely onto the grassy side-strip. The tractor's horn blared angrily after them as it went around the bend and out of sight.

After sitting up and taking a few shaky breaths to realize they were still alive, Kitty slammed the radio off. "What the hell, Lance?"

"Sorry," Lance said, looking over at her. "You okay?"

"Fine, except for the heart attack! You almost got us killed!" Kitty snapped, still angry.

Lance frowned. "Hey, I said I was sorry. We're fine, aren't we? And it's not like you couldn't have just phased us through anyway. "

"No, I couldn't have!" Kitty's heart skipped again, realizing what she'd just said. "I mean, what if I didn't have enough time phase us?" She covered sloppily.

Lance's dark eyes looked at the dashboard where Kitty's hands had gone. There was no question to either of them that she'd instinctively tried to phase them as soon as she'd seen the truck.

"Whatever," Kitty huffed, falling back into her seat, "just, like, take me to school, okay?"

"Fine," Lance scowled, shaking his head and pulling back onto the highway.

They sat out the rest of the ride in silence, the radio off. The longer she spent watching the landscape pass by, the guiltier Kitty started to feel. Lance had been a jackass, but he also had a point: it wasn't as if she hadn't used her powers to get them out of collisions before. Once she'd even phased the X-Jet through a whole mountain, with both of them in it. He had no way of knowing that she was powerless. And she knew that he'd only been acting up like that to keep her laughing – it was the first time they'd seen each other since their last fight.

She cast a sideways glance toward the other mutant. Lance's glare was fixed on the road in front of them, hands gripping at the wheel. Kitty huffed. She felt bad for snapping at him, but he _had_ been being reckless.

But then again, when had Lance Alvers ever not been reckless?

XXXX

They pulled into drop off lane in front of her university, and Kitty grabbed her stuff as Lance idled the car. Just as she was about to get out of the car and run to class she stopped. If she left him on a sour note, she'd feel badly for the rest of the day. And she _was_ the one who'd called him and asked to drive her in. She snuck a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. He was looking intently out the driver side window, still brooding. An expression which, unfortunately, made him look darker and sexier than usual.

Kitty sighed, resting her bag on the floor. "Hey," she said.

Lance turned toward her, and she caught his cheek with a quick, chaste kiss. "I'm sorry I lost it back there. It's just… you can't keep using your powers as an excuse to be reckless. We could have gotten seriously hurt."

Lance looked at her, his expression visibly softened but still quiet, like he was trying to decide whether or not to forgive her. She waited a few moments for him to say something before sighing and turning to get out of the car. It was just going to be a bad morning.

"Hey."

Kitty turned, and Lance caught her on the mouth with a full kiss. His calloused hand reached up to her neck, thumb grazing along her jawbone. Forgetting that she was going to be late, Kitty leaned into the pressure of his mouth, letting her body relax into the kiss. Her stomach tightened when she felt the brush of his tongue on her lower lip. She'd missed this.

Behind them, a horn blared. They were blocking up the drop lane.

Their lips broke apart, but Lance held Kitty's face close to his, looking heatedly from her mouth to her eyes. "Do good in class," he said, voice low and husky.

"Kay," was all she managed.

The horn went again. Kitty blushed. Lance noticed it, starting to pull her in for another kiss. Kitty laughed, pushing him playfully back into his seat. Then, she opened the door and slipped out. She hadn't made it a few paces before she heard the window roll down after her.

"Hey! Do you want a ride back?"

She turned around, grinning. "Maybe!"

The horn blared angrily, and was joined by several others who were backing up behind the jeep. Lance ignored them, grinned back at her, his forearm resting on this steering wheel. "Is that a maybe?"

"No," Kitty said, still walking backward toward the doors. "It's a maybe!"

"What time do you finish?"

A chorus of angry horns answered him as Kitty turned, waving goodbye at him over her shoulder.


	3. Chapter 3

"Was that Alvers?"

Kitty closed the front door to the X-Mansion and looked up. Scott was on the landing, arms crossed and stern-faced. '_Geez. I feel bad for your future children,' _Kitty thought, preparing for the lecture. Behind the ruby quartz lenses, she couldn't tell if Scott was looking at her, or watching Lance's Jeep pull out of the drive. And was he maybe scowling?

"Yeah," Kitty tried for casual. "Why?"

Yup. Definitely scowling. "I thought you two weren't speaking anymore… again."

"Well, I guess we are," Kitty said, walking past Scott and up the main stair. On top of everything else, she didn't feel like getting into it with Cyclops.

"Kitty," Scott said, following her. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to be hanging out with the Brotherhood right now."

"Good. Me neither. I wasn't with the Brotherhood. I was with Lance."

"Their ringleader."

Scott continued to grill her as she headed for her room.

Kitty wished she could phase through the locked door and leave him on the other side. Instead, she had to fish in her bag for her key. Stupid missing powers. Stupid, cavernous bag. Stupid, disappearing keys.

"Look, Kitty, I know its weird to not have powers. And it's natural to want to be comforted by someone when we feel vulnerable, but trust me - Alvers isn't the guy you should go to. It's just not smart for you to be around him now."

Finally, her fingers grasped the serrated metal edge and pulled it up to the surface.

"If you tell Alvers about our powers," Scott continued, "the Brotherhood could-"

"_Seriously_?" Kitty turned away from the door, key forgotten. "You really think I'd do that?"

Scott looked back at her silently.

"Wow, Scott. Nice. For your information, I wasn't '_looking for comfort_'. Lance gave me a ride to school and that's all." The kiss in the parking lot flashed into her mind for a moment. She shoved it away to glare back up at Scott. "Look, I get that you're concerned but it's not really any of your business. And besides, you keep going on and on about how bad Lance is, but when was the last time you honestly gave him a chance?"

Scott raised an eyebrow at her. "Sorry. Next time Alvers isn't too busy trying to bury me under a building, I'll be sure to give him a chance."

"Ugh!" Kitty jammed the key in her door, swinging it wide and closing it firmly in Scott's face.

"Oh, and Kitty?" Scott's voice came in through the closed door. "This team's safety _is_ my business. And I'm not going to let you or anyone else on it get hurt by anyone from the Brotherhood."

Kitty just stood in the silence, waiting for Cyclops to leave.

XXX

"So you're telling us you have nothing," Rogue said. Leave it to the Southern Belle to be blunt. The senior team shuffled uncomfortably on the couches and easy chairs of Xavier's study.

"Not quite, Rogue."

"We have found a few things," Jean said. "For one, our powerlessness isn't because of any internal developments. Nothing about our biology has changed – including our X genes. Our powers aren't leaving on their own so something is probably _making_ them leave, or suppressing them from the outside."

"What, like, we're being radiated? The water's being drugged? Gased in our sleep?" Evan leant forward on the arm of the couch. "Sounds like a paranoid conspiracy theory."

"Have you looked around yourself lately, Porcupine? You _live_ in a conspiracy theory," Rogue said, gesturing to the X-Mansion. "A boarding school for people with mutant powers?"

"Drugs or chemicals would have shown up on our blood tests," Jean said. "We're not finished going through all the samples yet, but so far they've come back clean."

"So," Rogue interrupted again, "what you're saying is, you don't know what it is. You just know what _isn't_."

Jean looked uneasily at the Professor.

"We're still working on it, Rogue. This may take some more time."

"Great," the Southerner stood up and headed for the door.

"Rogue?"

"Ah don't need to sit in a meeting to be told that y'all don't have any answers. I'm just going to go to bed."

Remy stood up off the couch.

"And where do you think you're going, Bub?"

The Cajun turned to give Logan a slow smile, "Dat be any real concern of yours, little man?"

Rogue rolled her eyes and left, Gambit slipping out after her before Wolverine could throw something at him.

"I don't get her," Evans said, shaking his head while looking at the door. "Of all people, I thought _she'd _be happy about this."

"Hank and I will be here tomorrow evening if any of you are interested in an update. Keep your comm. devices on you, if we have a breakthrough, we'll be using those to page you." With Xavier's dismissal, the room got up and started to leave. "Kitty," Xavier called. Kitty stopped short at the door. "Might I have a moment with you?"

"Um, sure." Kitty walked back over to the desk while the rest of the X-Men filed out. She thought she saw Scott glance back at them before he closed the door behind him, leaving her and Xavier alone in the study.

"How are you?" Xavier asked, his comforting voice making Kitty feel more at east. At the same time, a deep exhausted spread over her as she realized how tense she'd been all day.

"I'm okay," she said, sitting in the chair across from his desk. "This whole powerless thing is really strange… but at least I don't have to learn how to climb stairs again like Kurt. How are you, Professor? You must be tired, working all day in the lab with McCoy."

Xavier smiled, wheeling around to her side of the desk. "I'm alright, Kitty. Thank you. I just hope we can figure this out before it gets to be too much of a strain for the others. I'm particularly concerned for Rogue. She seems to be taking this with some difficulty."

"Maybe I can talk to her," Kitty offered. "She doesn't always want to open up to me but…"

"That would be very kind of you, Kitty. I'm sure she'd appreciate it."

Kitty smiled.

"I heard something interesting from Scott today."

And just like that, her world got a little smaller, her heart just a little too big for her chest.

"Were you with Lance Alvers today?"

"I - "

Professor X's serious, calm face stared back at her, without judgement or anger. Even with his telepathy gone, Kitty could never have lied to him. "Yes, I was. He drove me to school and he gave me a ride home again after. Usually I go to school with Jean but… " she cut off, realizing that all of that was irrelevant, and she was babbling in her nervousness.

"Kitty, I understand that you and Avalanche have a… complicated relationship. And I do believe that you are a good influence for him. But this is a particularly sensitive time for us, and Lance isn't the only one you risk exposing us to by spending time with him, should the information somehow slip."

"That's-!"

"Neither are _you_ the only one you put at risk by seeing him." The Professor continued seriously, looking directly into Kitty's powder blue eyes.

Kitty looked away, frustrated and ashamed. "I promise I won't let him know. I… _care_ about Lance but," she felt the red embarrassment spreading hot over her cheeks, and prayed it wasn't as visible as it felt, "but I know he hasn't always been the best guy. And I'd never endanger the X-Men, Professor. They're my family."

Xavier closed a firm, comforting hand over hers. "I don't doubt that for a moment, Kitty. But for the time, I will ask you not to see the boy. At least until we have this figured out. There's just too much at risk."

The tears surprised her almost as much as the request. Kitty blinked to keep them from spilling over. She was already embarrassed enough. "Okay," she heard herself say quietly.

Xavier smiled a little sadly. "Thank you, Kitty. I'm sorry. We are trying to resolve this as quickly as possible, I promise."

She stood up abruptly, furious at herself for the tears that were still building behind her eyes. "May I go now?" she asked.

"Of course."

She practically fled his office, closing the door behind her and taking a deep, grounding breath. She used the walk to her room to tame back the tears. By the time she was back in her room, her face was completely dry and controlled, a smooth mask of indifference. _Break up with Lance._ Fine. The Professor asked her to do it. It was for the best.


	4. Chapter 4

Four days.

Four days of ignoring the calls, the texts, and pressing DELETE or MUTE every time he tried. Kitty didn't even let herself listen to the voicemails, in case he asked to see her and she caved in to the sound of his voice. It was easier like this.

And then after four days, the calls just stopped. She was waking up to no missed calls, no texts, and no emails, but reaching for the phone before she'd even opened her eyes. And the infuriating thing was: it bothered her. It felt like a massive hole had been opened up in her body and was left there, gaping. Kitty chucked her inactive phone onto her desk and stared at it, knees hugged to her chest. Lance had given up on her. After only four days.

"Hate you," she said, unsure if she was talking to the phone, or Lance, or her own dim reflection staring sullenly back at her.

It had been two weeks since they'd lost their powers, and the only change was that the effects had gotten worse. Prof. X still didn't know what was wrong with them. The X-Mansion uneasy and tense. Kitty had never felt so vulnerable and threadbare in her life.

"Kitty? Are you there?" There was a knock on her door.

Amara and Boom Boom were on the other side, both dressed in running shorts and lycra tank tops. And it wasn't until then that Kitty remembered the three of them were on training duty for the kids. She let the girls into her room while she changed.

"Thanks for coming to get me. Sorry I blanked."

"Don't thank me," Tabitha threw herself over Kitty's bed, crossing her arms behind her head. "I was all for canceling but Amara wanted to come get you."

Kitty shot a meaningful smile at Amara as she laced up her sneakers. The three of them headed out towards the back of the mansion toward the soccer fields. Since they'd lost their powers, it had been too dangerous to run every training session in the danger room, especially with the newer kids.

"So," Tabitha linked her arms through both of theirs, "I'm sick of this gloomy crap. I've decided. We're having a party!"

Kitty and Amara shot each other bemused glances behind Tabitha's back.

"Uh, I don't really think that's a good idea Tabitha… the team's been pretty down."

"_Exactly_. We need something to lightened things up. And, I found out from Kurt that Rogue's birthday is next week. So, we're gonna go into the city and hit up that new place, Glo."

Kitty snorted. "A club? You want to go clubbing with _Rogue_? In case you haven't noticed, she kind of has a thing against dancing."

"Aw, whatever. That was when she couldn't touch people. Now it's no problem! Besides, if we make it _her_ party, she'll have to come." Tabitha pressed. "C'mon, it'll be great. We need something to get our minds of this power outage. My girl's with me, aren't you Amara?"

Amara looked uneasily at Kitty as they stepped outside. In the distance, Kitty could see a cluster of kids sitting in the soccer field, picking at tufts of grass and lying around looking depressed.

"I mean… it might help," Amara said. "We _have _all been kind of low."

"Awesome," Tabitha grinned. "I'll take care of the technical stuff. You guys just spread the word to everyone else."

"_Maybe_," Kitty said, but she could feel herself smiling. Tabitha's energy was infectious. "We'll see. C'mon let's get these kids running."

"Alright everybody, up n at 'em!" Tabitha shouted, clapping her hands. "We're doing laps! And by 'we', I mean 'you'!"

The kids groaned, rolling over onto their stomachs and pushing themselves up. They started jogging sluggishly around the field.

"Come on, guys! You can do better! Pretend like the badger's on your ass!"

Kitty watched the kids jog around the field. Most of them were new move-ins to the X-Mansion, only a few months in, and weren't used to hard training. Kitty looked to see who was taking up the lead naturally, who was trying to show off, who was pacing themselves and who was straggling. As she made notes onto her clipboard, she noticed that one of the boys ('leading naturally', she'd written) kept catching her eye as she scanned the field.

"Hey, hey, hey," Tabitha leant in, elbowing at Kitty conspiratorially. "Looks like someone's got an admirer."

"Please," Kitty smiled. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Girl, stop playing dumb," Tabitha said. "Jav's a hottie."

"Tabi!" Kitty lightly slapped her friend on the shoulder with the clipboard. "Shut up! We're supposed to be working."

"I _am_ working," Tabitha winked. "I'm observing the new guy. My conclusions: the boy is hot. And he keeps looking at you."

"He does not." Kitty said, just as Javelin's bright blue eyes met hers from beneath a shock of blond hair. He smiled, a broad, curling grin as he passed them by, picking up the pace a bit as he did.

Amara looked at Kitty, eyebrows raised.

"You should totally ask him out," Tabitha urged. "I'd do it."

"He's nineteen," Kitty said, checking her stopwatch.

"So? You're twenty-one. Big deal. Didn't that guy who owns playboy marry a twenty year old when he was like, ninety?"

"So I'm the perverted ninety year in this analogy?"

Tabitha grinned. "I'd wear a bunny suit for you. Pretty sure the new kid would too, if you asked him."

"You're the worst!" Kitty smacked Boom Boom again with the clipboard.

Javelin lapped them. A pack of his friends who were running alongside him shot looks at Kitty, then at each other, grinning and starting to elbow Javelin as they passed.

"Oh yeah," Tabitha said sarcastically. "He's not interested in you at _all_."

(One hour later)

Kitty looked down to check her stopwatch. They'd gone through the warm up run and circuit training, another hard run, and now they were just pushing through the cool down laps.

"Alright guys, keep movin!" she called out. "Three more minutes and then showers!"

"Uh, Kitty."

Kitty looked up from her stopwatch to Amara, who was staring at something behind them. Kitty turned, and felt her stomach fall. A camouflage green jeep was rolling down the gravel road toward them, a cloud of grey stone dust rising out behind it. Any other car would be stuck there on the driveway, and she would be safe. But Lance's jeep could go off terrain if it needed too. In fact, if he wanted, Lance could drive the thing right up to the soccer field and her trainees. Exactly not what she wanted the younger members of the team to see. Sure enough, the Jeep started to pull off the road and onto the grass.

_Shit_.

Kitty turned to Tabitha. The panic must have shown on her face, because Boom Boom took the stopwatch from her, along with instant control over the training session Kitty had been running. "Alright, guys, you're done! Showers! Let's go!"

The kids came fell down to a walk, some of them looking confusedly at the three seniors, but most of them happy for the early stop. Tabitha and Amara started to practically herd the trainees toward the mansion while Kitty stood awkwardly, glancing inconspicuously at the approaching jeep.

_Why now? Why here? You stupid, stupid, stupid…_

"Hey."

Kitty whirled, with the distinct feel of having been blind sided. She was face to face with tanned skin, topaz blue eyes and a slow smile. The rest of the field had gone, headed to the mansion with Tabitha and Amara. Neither of the girls seemed to notice that Javelin had straggled. In fact, she hadn't noticed either.

"Oh. Hey, Javelin."

She was thrown by how close he was standing to her, and that he was a full head taller than her up close. Much taller than she had expected. She could feel the heat radiating off his skin, hot from his workout. Javelin smiled questioningly down at her. "Are you staying out here?"

_Double shit._

Kitty forced herself to look directly into Javelin's eyes, hoping it would keep him from looking up and seeing the Jeep peeling off the road. It worked. Javelin's blue gaze locked down onto hers in a way that made her feel bare skinned.

"Uh," Kitty said, scrambling for something to say. Could she make it inside with Javelin before Lance got there? Probably not. Also, what was she supposed to do once she was inside? Wait for Lance to go in and ask for her? Or bring the mansion down? He would be just stupid enough to try. And with all their powers gone, that would only end badly.

"Well, I was wondering." Jav said. "This weekend. Are you…"

"Yo, Jav!" Tabitha's voice broke the moment. Booom boom had her head out the back door, pointing down at her foot. "You've got ten seconds to get over here or you're doing more laps!"

Javelin looked torn for a moment, as if he might stay anyway. He looked back down at Kitty, waiting for her to challenge?

"You'd better go," Kitty said. "Boom Boom isn't a girl you want to mess with."

"_Five seconds_!"

Javelin smiled, "Yes, Ma'am," he took a step back and saluted Kitty playfully. He broke into a light jog toward the mansion and Tabitha, but not before flashing that grin on more time. Kitty mouthed a silent 'thank you' to Boom Boom, who winked back at her before yanking Javelin inside.

Kitty turned around and watched the Jeep approach, holding her clipboard a little bit too tightly. She didn't have to deal with the others being here to see it. But what the hell was she supposed to say?

Lance pulled his jeep up right next to her, so close that for a moment she thought he wasn't even going to stop. He parked in the grass and turned off the car, but didn't get out. He sat in the drivers seat without saying anything, just staring at her.

He was mad. She could tell by the hardness around his eyes. A million excuses, brushoffs, and apologies raced through her head, but she forced herself into silence. She waited.

Finally, Lance got out of the car and slammed the door behind him, leaning against the side paneling with crossed arms. "Get in."

"What?"

"Get. In."

"I don't want to."

"I don't care. Get in."

Real anger flared up at his pushiness. Kitty grasped at that edge like a lifeline. If she could stay angry, maybe this wouldn't be as hard. "Or what, Lance? You're going to kidnap me?"

"Either that or you start explaining things to me here," Lance shot back.

Kitty stood silent at that, looking at the ground, letting the quiet hang and curdle between them.

"So? What did I do this time?" Lance said. Only it wasn't really a question, just something that he had to say. It was their routine. And they were falling back into that relationship, like twin stars that were slipping back into orbit. She felt a kick of panic. She had made a promise to Xavier, and to her team. Her family.

"Nothing," Kitty said simply, looking up. The best lies were always the ones that used the most truth.

Lance frowned, the hardness in his eyes sharpening. He searched her face.

"You didn't do anything, Lance. I just thought about it after you drove me to school. And I'm tired."

"Of what?"

"Of you. Us. This on and off thing we keep doing. I mean it's been what, five years?" Kitty forced herself to laugh. It sounded as tired and frustrated as she felt, more convincing than she'd expected. "I'm just tired of pretending like we're going to work out one day. We both know we're not."

She watched in silent pain as the look in Lance's eyes changed. From annoyance and confusion to something different. Deeper. Unreadable. "What are you saying," he said, blankly.

"I'm saying… enough. I mean," she forced herself to smile. "Come on, Lance. It as cute when we were teenagers. But now…"

"But now _what_?" He uncrossed his arms, standing up straight off his jeep.

"We're adults," Kitty said, forcing herself to stand her ground and not take a step back. "We're not in high school anymore, and things change. _One _of us has responsibilities."

Lance smiled, licking his lips and kicking back at his front tire. '_Yeah,_' she could practically hear him saying it. '_XMen and their high and mighty responsibilities_.'

Kitty grit her teeth. He always had to make everything so difficult. "I mean it. You should just go." As soon the command left her mouth, she knew that he would sooner drop dead right there than get in his Jeep and drive away. So, Kitty turned on her heel and started toward the X-Mansion.

She'd been expecting him to try and stop her, she just hadn't expected him to kiss her that hard. It was a fierce, bullying kiss – just like Lance. His mouth was a searing command on hers, and his tongue like hot metal in her mouth. Without his lips ever leaving hers, Lance pulled Kitty around so she was pressed between him and his jeep.

He pinned her there, and broke away before she could gain enough sense to push away or try to free herself. When her world came back into focus, Lance was glowering down at her, looking for the entire world like he'd wanted to kill instead of kiss her. She could feel her lips starting to redden and swell.

"You're right. We are adults now," Lance said, in a heavy way that made her spine hum. "and I'm sick of being preached to do. _No, you listen-_" he cut off her protest, pushing up against her. She could smell his hair, his face was so close she couldn't look into anything but his eyes. "You listen," he said again, lower this time. "You like me. I like you. And nobody else likes that, and I don't give a damn. And _nothing's_ changed there, Pretty Kitty." He smiled, and curled a finger under her chin, as if he were stroking a real cat. "Nothing there's gonna change either."

She scowled. If she could, she'd slap him right there, but he had her arms pinned against her sides. "Ass," she said.

"If you don't like it, phase out. We both know I can't stop you."

If only. It was a dare, and Kitty hated that she couldn't take it. But she couldn't stay here. Because if she did, he'd probably kiss her again, and that would be the end. So instead, she twisted her arm and yanked it hard, breaking out of his hold. She let her hand fly, hitting him squarely across the face. It was the first time she'd ever hit him, contact to contact, instead of just phasing through. His grip loosened for a moment, and she took the opportunity to break free of him all together before she had to look at his face.

"I'm serious, Lance," she said, keeping her back to him. "This isn't a joke. This isn't a game. I'm breaking up with you."


	5. Chapter 5

_Just please don't bring the mansion down. Please, please, please if you ever picked a time in your entire life to _not_ be completely rash and idiotic, please let it be now. Please, please, please let it be now. _

Kitty repeated the mantra in her head as she sprinted through the mansion, near blind to her surroundings. A sudden demolishment of the X-Mansion would be exactly the kind of thing Scott and Xavier had asked her to protect against. And, on top of everything else, it wasn't as if the X-Men needed another reason to dislike Lance. How would she explain it if Avalanche responded to her slapping him by ripping a hole under the mansion and sending the entire building plummeting through it?

_Just please don't bring it down_. _Please, please, please, don't bring the mansion down._

He didn't.

Kitty realized it when she started to run out of breath, aware for the first time that she'd been holding it. She'd made it almost as far as the kitchen without feeling a rumble, aside from the nervous one in the pit of her stomach. The shock ought to have worn off by now. So, hopefully the stillness meant that Lance had taken her hint and was already gone. That, or he was still standing in the soccer fields, letting his anger build before letting it loose.

"Omph!" Kitty rebounded off something as she dashed into the kitchen, the impact knocking her back on her ass. Whatever she'd hit shattered and then yelped, also crashing to the ground. She looked up to see Rogue propping herself up from a sprawl on the kitchen tile, covered in coffee, broken pieces of what used to be a mug spread out at her elbow.

"Seriously, Kitty?" Rogue snapped, "Why don't you watch where you're going for once!" The southerner stood, pulling at the waist of her long sleeve shirt to examine the large splotches of coffee stains.

"Sorry," Kitty offered, picking herself up as well. "I guess I was pretty distracted."

"Whatever." Rogue scoffed, turning her back. "It's _fine_."

Kitty quirked an eyebrow as Rogue stalked to the sink and turned on the tap, pulling her ruined long sleeve shirt over her head and throwing it into the filling basin. Kitty's gaze lingered on the exposed slope of Rogue's shoulders, completely white and bare, save for the thin spaghetti strap of a deep violet camisole. The shoulder caps nearly grazed Rogue's earlobes with unspoken tension. Kitty remembered the talk she told Xavier she'd try to have with Rogue, and went to the cupboard to fish out a towel.

"So," Kitty said, trying for casual as she knelt over the broken mug, collecting the wide, blade-like shards and putting them in the bin. "I feel like I haven't seen you in a while. How are you?"

"I _was_ doing great," Rogue said without turning around, "until someone ran me over and ruined my clothes."

Kitty rolled her eyes. Rogue had always been tetchy. But she did think she felt an extra degree of agitation from her, more than the usual anyway. After Kitty had cleared the pieces, she went over to the sink to rinse out the rag.

"Do you take sugar?"

Rogue jumped, startling so badly she banged her kneecap on the cupboard beneath the sink. She cursed, whirling. "What are you _doing_?"

Kitty blinked. "Checking if you drink your coffee with sugar? Because like, the floor could get sticky." She held up the rag as evidence. "What's your deal anyway?"

"Today, mah _deal_ is apparently you." Rogue snapped. "In case you didn't notice, my arms are bare. Sneaking up close to me ain't smart, even for you."

"Uh. Okay. First, I wasn't 'sneaking' on anyone," Kitty said, air-quoting with her fingers. "And second, unless you're keeping something from us, your powers are gone, so that shouldn't be an issue."

Rogue glowered. Kitty huffed, swiveling the faucet head to the other end of the sink to rinse the rag away from Rogue's shirt. She wrung it out before going back to mop up the rest of the coffee. As she did, an uncomfortable silence spread out between the two girls. Finally, Shadowcat sighed, balling up the rag and sitting herself up on the counter.

"Look, I'm sorry." She offered to Rogue's turned back. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Rogue snorted, squirting dish soap into her shirt and starting to scrub out the coffee. "Could have fooled me," she muttered.

Kitty bit her lip against the urge to snap back something catty and storm out. _You promised Professor you'd try to get her to open up._ But how to go about it? It wasn't like she could just come out and say: '_Hey Rogue, you've been a total pain lately. And you seem to take losing yours powers worse than than Jean takes getting a B. Prof is worried about you. So spill_.'

Right. That was so not happening. Rogue had never taken well to anything that could be construed as criticism. If Kitty wanted her former roommate to open up, she'd have to take a different approach.

"I said I'm sorry, okay? I guess I've just been on edge recently. I don't know. This whole, no powers thing. It's way more difficult than I thought it'd be." Well, at least it wasn't a lie, even if was sort of manipulative.

And it worked. Kitty could practically see Rogue's shoulders lowering. "Don't worry about it," Rogue said after a while. "I don't even really like this shirt."

And that was probably the closest thing to an apology she'd get. "I'll buy you a new one if it's ruined. I can't believe I just plowed into you like that. God. Like, I never even realized what a clutz I was until I couldn't phase through everything that got in my way. You should see all the bruises I've gotten in the last few weeks."

Rogue turned around while her shirt soaked under the running tap, her face looking a bit more human and friendly. "You are pretty clutzy," she said.

"Apparently. And I've been banned from any and all driving too. Logan won't even let me near a car."

"No offense Kitty, but that's probably one of his better ideas."

Kitty did her best pout, before breaking into a giggle. Rogue smirked, just fractionally. A good sign. Kitty decided to run with it. "What about you? I mean, how have you been with your powers gone?"

Oops. Too soon. Kitty could practically see the wall shooting back up behind Rogue's eyes. Her pale, bare arms crossed over her chest. She shrugged.

Well, at least that was better than a 'leave me alone' or 'I don't want to talk about it'. Kitty probed a bit farther. "I guess you're still pretty big on playing it safe, huh?"

"Professor asked us to," Rogue said in a deliberately casual way, looking away to the TV in the corner of the room. Over the breakfast table, a muted news anchor was covering a story on a missing kid. But Rogue wasn't really looking at it.

"Yeah," Kitty said after the silence got a bit too long.

"And what's the point anyway?" Rogue said, turning back to the sink and swirling around her shirt in the soapy water. It seemed more like a way to fill the time and silence than anything purposeful. "According to Hank and the Professor, our powers could come back any moment anyway. If that happens and I'm touching someone, I'd probably kill him. Or put him in a coma."

_'Him', huh?_ Kitty decided not to comment on that, or wonder out loud which particular 'him' Rogue had had in mind. "Yeah. I guess. But I mean… this is sort of like your chance too, right? It's been a long time since you got to touch anyone. Don't you ever miss it?" As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Kitty regretted them. It was too blunt. Way too blunt. _Stupid_. She practically kicked herself as Rogue fell into a deadened silence. _Stupid. Stupid._

"Yeah," Rogue said in the same way that most people said '_duh_'. "But why would I let myself start touching people again now?" she raised her hand almost absently and stared at the smooth, wet skin of her palm. "It'll just make it harder to go back to living like this once our powers come back."

Kitty stared, amazed that Rogue was being so open. In all the years that she'd known her, she didn't think that her ex-roomate had ever willingly had such a personal conversation.

"I guess," Kitty said. "But I mean… what if like, we don't?" The impact of her own statement leveled her like a steamroller. Kitty let her gaze drop down to her lap, and then let her world crumple down into that field of vision. She concentrated as hard as she could on the sensation of phasing. Of slipping through the marble like it was water. But she remained seated, solid, and unmoving. A horrible hollowness overcame her. "What if we just end up being normal kids for the rest of our lives?"

Rogue laughed hollowly, pulling Kitty out of her inner mind. "You say that like it'd be a bad thing."

"You wouldn't miss your powers at all?" Kitty said. "I mean… I know they're hard sometimes but-"

"_Sometimes_?" Rogue turned, looking at Kitty as if she'd just escaped a lunatic institution. "Try all the time. Do you have any idea how hard it is not being able to touch anyone? I can't hug my friends, I can't go on dates or be in a relationship, hell I can't even go into a swimming pool without worrying that I'm going to brush up against someone and drown them."

Kitty looked away, dropping her head. "Sorry," she said quietly. But Rogue didn't seem to hear.

"I mean, it's taken years but I was finally doing it. I was _finally_ starting to deal with the idea that I'll be a loner for the rest of my life. That I'll always be pushing Gambit away. That I'll never be able to control my powers like Jean or Evan or you. I'm just going to be a walking, talking, lonely hazard for the rest of my life. But I get to be a hazard with other friends. I can't have a family. But I can have a team. And that would have to be enough. But now? Now I get a shot at a being normal? At touching people again? What kind of sick joke is that? How am I supposed to trust myself with it when I'm not even sure it's for real? And what if I let myself touch people, and then I realize that I miss it so much that when my powers come back I can't…" Rogue cut off, seeming to just realize that she'd let her guard down. She struggled against the sudden silence for a few moments, looking for the right words, before she gave up to it, resigning to it.

And she just looked so lonely.

Kitty couldn't stand it.

"Look," Kitty said, sliding off the counter. She went to put her hand on Rogue's shoulder comfortingly, before stopping herself and letting it drop back to her waist. "I'm sorry. I didn't think about how hard this would be for you. I just figured that maybe, it would be nice for you to be able to touch people now even if it was just for a bit. I didn't realize…"

Rogue shrugged again, leaning back against the counter. Her sudden openness replaced by a defensive guard. Back to normal Rogue. "I just don't see the point. Why tease myself with the chance? It's just easier to just act like my powers are still on until they actually come back."

"I understand," Kitty said, hesitating before she decided to take the plunge. "Do you… I mean, would you want me to talk to Gambit about this?"

Rogue looked at Kitty, startled.

"I know he's been hitting on you a lot. Well, a lot more," Kitty said. "And it was bad enough when he knew he couldn't touch you. I mean, do you want me to try and get him to back off?"

Rogue smiled, shaking her head. "If you can get that snake charmer to do _anything_," she said, turning back to ring out her shirt. "I'll take back everything and wear a pink bikini for a week."

Kitty snorted, trying to choke down her laugh.

Rogue gave her a sideways smile. But there was still something distinctly sad about it. Lonely.

"Okay, well… I won't say anything if you don't want me to," Kitty said. "But let me know if you do."

Rogue shrugged. "You can try." She pulled the long-sleeve over her head again.

"Uh, that's still wet."

Rogue gave her a 'no shit' look before starting to leave the kitchen. "I'm just going to wear it back to my room. In case I run into someone on the way."

"Alright…" Kitty watched Rogue leave, making the last minute decision to run after her. "Hey, Rogue!"

Rogue turned in the hallway, looking back.

"Tabitha wants to throw a birthday party for you. In town."

Rogue wrinkled her nose, looking confused.

"I know it's not really your thing but, maybe it would be good for you to get out of the mansion for a bit. We'll dance, get some drinks, just have fun. And I'll get you a cake. Any kind you want."

She could practically see the 'no' on the tip of Rogue's tongue, before hesitation checked it. "I'll think about it," Rogue said, surprising Kitty for the umpteenth time that morning.

Kitty felt a grin spread over her face, and knew she looked childish. But she didn't care. "Great," she said. "It'll be fun. I promise."


	6. Chapter 6

The door slammed. The Brotherhood House rocked at the foundations, as if it had been relocated to a fault line in California. And suddenly, Todd really wished that he hadn't duped Fred into freeing the TV and living room up tonight (and not an easy feat either; it took _a lot_ of work to stage a convincing 'all you can eat monster truck festival' in town). Todd's _plan_ had been to play the new Underworld movie at a loud volume, and then _hopefully_ Wanda would hear it and come down (he knew she was a fan of the franchise). Then he'd gently coerce her into giving movie night (and hopefully, him) a chance.

But apparently movie night wasn't going to happen. It would be hard to watch Underworld, or anything, after Lance's temper reduced the house to a pile of rubble.

"Hey!" An irritated snap sailed down from upstairs as Todd scrambled for the nearest doorframe to brace himself against. "Watch it, Alvers! Some of us have _valuables_ in our rooms."

Easy enough for Pietro to make threats from the top floor, with his super-speedy powers that would get him out of the building faster than Lance could bring it down. The least Quicksilver could have done was wait for the rest of them to have a shot at escaping before he aggravated Lance.

"_Can it, Pietro_!" Lance growled, throwing his leather jacket down as if he were trying to break the floor with it.

Todd peeked around his doorframe. Avalanche glowered at his crumpled jacket, before covering his face with his hands and raking them backward into his hair, exhaling sharply.

"Uh, hey man." Todd tried, readying himself to jump through the window, glass and all, in case the ground started to literally fall out from under his feet. "You okay?"

Lance's fingers fisted in his hair as he lifted his enraged face toward the ceiling, eyes closed. "Not. Now. Todd." He grit out.

"Roger that." Todd retreated back behind his doorframe.

"What's the matter?" Pietro's appeared in a silver blur, lackadaisically leaning an elbow on Lance's shoulder. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Not with you," Lance said, tilting his dark gaze to Pietro before yanking his shoulder away. "Ever." He snatched up his jacket from the ground and started stalking up the stairs.

Todd peeked out hopefully. Maybe there was hope for movie night yet.

"Bet this has something to do with a certain kitty cat we all know and loathe!" Pietro said loudly as Lance disappeared up the stairs. In response, a lob of plaster cracked itself apart from the rest of the ceiling, narrowly missing Pietro's head. "Whoa!" Quicksilver dodged, snickering.

"Man, I don't get why you need to antagonize him like that," Todd whined. "You're putting us all in danger."

"Someone's gotta rub salt in lover boy's wounds." Pietro shrugged, making his way to the kitchen fridge.

"Right. Uhh, why's that again?" Todd said, hopping around the plaster that was laid on the hallway floor.

"Todd, you're honestly the stupidest man I've ever met when it comes to women."

"Hey! That's not true, I've got tricks you don't even know about."

"Course you do," Pietro rolled his eyes, popping open a beer and letting the cap skitter and twirl on the kitchen tiles. "Let me know if my sister ever decides to sit on that greasy couch next to you within the next century."

"She might come!" Todd defended. "I was close this time! Course I'll never get the chance to find out how close with you pushing Lance into demolish mode."

"Look, the sooner Lance realizes that Miss Snooty isn't _ever _going to accept him, he can stop barking up her skinny bitch tree and we all rest easier around here."

"Uh… I thought the point was sort of that he isn't ever giving up on Kitty." Todd said. "He's been into that chick since before we all moved to Bayville."

"Naïve Todd, so naïve. Even Lance can only take flat out rejection so many times. He just has to realize she leads him on, once he'd got it in his head that the bitch is a bitch who isn't going to lift her skirt for him _ever_, he'll find someone new."

"Uh, where are you going?"

"Where does it look like?" Pietro asked, swanning up the stairs with an open beer in one hand. "Going to give a little pep talk."

"Pietro… maybe you shouldn't."

"What are friends for, Todd? What are friends for?"

XXXXXXX

"So, she finally laid one on ya, huh?"

Lance's amp cut abruptly as his fingers fell from the frets. He looked up. He thought he'd heard his door open beneath the heavy bass of his electric guitar amp, but decided that he must have been imagining things. And if he wasn't, he'd decided to cut whoever was stupid enough to come in while he was playing his bass some slack. Ignore them until they take a hint and go away.

Of course it was Pietro, smirking against the doorframe like he owned the place. Lance thought pretty seriously about grasping the neck of his guitar and smashing the body right into that infuriating face, but he managed to restrain himself. Dick or not, if he brain damaged Pietro, only Wanda would be left for any vaguely intelligent conversation. "Get out, Pietro."

"I can see the hand print," Pietro said, grinning at Lance's cheek. "Who'd have thought she had it in her?"

"Pietro, I'm seriously warning you. If you don't get the – "

"_Oh, would you chill out_? Here."

Lance stared at the beer his flat mate was offering.

"What?" Pietro scowled. "It's not poisoned or nothing."

"What the hell," Lance sighed, knocking back a long sip and wiping his mouth before handing it back.

"So, what happened this time?" Pietro said.

"I said I don't want to talk about it."

"Too bad," Pietro cut him off. "That's the price of the beer. Besides I'm sick of you moping around every time something happens between you and Little Miss Perfect. Just get it off your back and be done with it. So, talk. Work with me, I'm trying out a new leaf."

Lance stared at the carpet. He could not believe that Pietro of all people was doing this to him.

"Sooo, she slapped you. Your turn."

"To slap _you_? Don't tempt me."

Pietro handed him back the can, trying to loosen him up. "To say why, to defend yourself, call a bitch a bitch. Whatever."

Lance squinted at the graying carpet in his room, stained with things even he didn't like to think about. "Pietro," he said, his voice taking on a heavy, serious tone.

"Yeah?"

Lance leaned in, putting his arm around Quicksilver's shoulders. "Thanks for the beer. Now, get the fuck – out of my room."

Pietro's face soured, a nasty expression even for him. "Fine," he stood. "I know when I'm not wanted. But listen to me, Lance. We're all tired of you pouting over that X-Geek. Kitty Pryde is _never_ going to accept you. She's just a fake, wanna be goody two shoes whose been stringing you along to get her bad-boy kicks when she feels like it. The sooner you realize it, the better. So why don't you just grow a pair and cut that girl loo-"

Before he could finish the sentence, the ceiling over Pietro's head had caved in. Within the next four minutes, the entire west half of the Brootherhood mansion was reduced to shambles. Movie night was definitely out.


	7. Chapter 7

XxXxX

"Climbing trees again," Logan said, scowling up at her. "Haven't seen you do that since you were in high school. Something eating you, half-pint?"

Kitty stuck her tongue out at him from her resting place in the oak's upper boughs. "Seriously, Logan, I'm almost, like, twenty-two. Could you stop _calling_ me that?"

"Grow up some and I'll consider it."

She thought she saw a phantom of a smirk on Wolverine's face. Funny, because he himself was only about an inch taller than Kitty, at an unimpressive five foot three. But somehow his diminutive stature was never the part of Logan that made an impression on people…

"C'mon, the others are looking for you. One of the new kids made dinner and Charles says we all have to sit down together and eat it."

Shadowcat sighed, savoring the last few moments in her haven of solitude. Then she started climbing down. About halfway through the descent, her foot slipped. The branch in her hand snapped like dry chalk, and she pitched backward. _Strange_, she thought for a surreal, slow moment as gravity wrapped its hands firmly around her. _I've never fallen before_…

Logan was underneath her, she realized even as the scream caught in her throat and her body started its plummet. Logan would catch her. She could already feel him moving in beneath her with open arms. She saw the stern look ready on his face as she fell into his arms, and then his confusion as she through them to the ground. From there, she gaped up at him. He stood over her, arms empty, his face shocked.

It took what felt like a full minute to understand what had happened.

"Oh my God. Logan!" Joy flooded her. "My powers! Did you see? I phased right through you! My powers are back!"

Something flickered behind the surprise in Logan's eyes. Panic. Then fear. His lips moved. He was speaking to her, Kitty realized, shouting. But no noise left his open mouth. She suddenly became aware of the eerily silence of everything around them. Hadn't there been birds chirping only a moment before?

"Logan? What's wrong?" Kitty reached to take his hand and pull herself up. Her fingers slid through his as if she was made of water. As if she wasn't even there at all.

It was her turn to feel panic then. She tried to get up, but couldn't, and looked down to see that her legs had already sunk deep into the ground. When she tried to move them, to phase upward, she felt nothing. Could do nothing. It was as if she didn't exist from the waist down at all. And – her heart lurched – and she was still sinking.

"Logan!" She reached for him again, but this time out of desperation. "I can't stop it! Please, I can't-" and Logan was reaching for her too, trying to grab ahold of her, silently shouting at her to take his hand! Stop! But each time their arms met, she passed through him like she was nothing. And still, she sunk deeper into the ground.

The others were running out of X-mansion now, toward them. Jean and Rogue and Kurt and Scott – her teammates and the new recruits, all tearing toward her, shouting with empty, silent mouths. They swarmed around her, and Kitty was only sinking faster and faster, down to her navel and then past her chest, and from below the earth she felt nothing at all, and that scared her more than anything else. "Please, please," she realized she was crying. Hot, wet tears left scalding tracks down her cheeks, and her uplifted arms burned like they'd been doused in kerosene as she reached. Above her were a dozen open arms, stretching fingers, and desperate hands as her family and friends tried to pull her up, to save her. A hundred hands, and she couldn't grab ahold of one. She sank. Finally, her arms dropped, too burned and exhausted to reach anymore. She tilted her head back as the ground closed up over her neck and then hugged at the corners of her jaw.

The faces of her friends grew father and farther away. Silent, scalding tears streaming past her temples and into the dirt that was closing over her ears and creeping up until she was only a face and nothing below. The last thing she saw as she sank into the earth was someone forcing apart the crowd, someone shoving aside Evan and Scott, pushing through everyone with ferocious, desperate rage. And even through the horrible, all-encompassing silence and the ground swallowing her up, she could see so clearly that what Lance Alvers was screaming was her name.

XxXxX

Kitty shot up in bed to roll of deafening thunder. Cold. Sweating. Alive. She could feel her body, tangible and solid all around her, shaking and tight with fear. Shivering, she pulled her comforter around her like a second skin and, without even thinking, reached for her phone. She was half way through finding his name in her contact list before she stopped herself. Outside, summer rain beat down on the window in sheets. A dream. It had only been a horrible dream. She didn't have to call him to say she was okay. He would probably question that statement just by the mere fact that she had called him at - she glanced at the top banner of her cell - four forty in the morning just to say so. Besides, Kitty thought, as the backlight burned his name into her eyes, he probably wouldn't even pick up for her anyway. She knew she wouldn't, if the situation were reversed.

The tears fell onto the phone screen, surprising her. They were just as hot and burning as they had been in her dreams.

XxXxX

"Couldn't sleep?"

Kitty looked up to see Kurt standing in the doorway in his pajama pants, a cell phone in his hands.

"Bad dream," Kitty said, sending the milk carton sliding across the kitchen table as Kurt got out a bowl and sat down across from her.

Kurt raised his eyebrows at the proffered jug, pouring dry cheerios into his bowl. "I know you're dirty secret, Kitty Pryde. You think I forgot that you drink straight from the carton? _Cooties_."

Kitty put down her spoon. "If you're going to torment me, I'll just go back to my room."

Kurt snickered, pouring milk into his bowl.

"What _are_ you doing up so early?" she asked. "I thought you could sleep through anything."

"I can. Amanda's scared of thunderstorms," Kurt said, placing the phone down on the table. "We've been talking for the past hour." Kitty noticed that he wasn't wearing his hologram projector on his wrist, and was surprised by the umpteenth time to realize that Kurt's smooth, peach hued skin wasn't an illusion this time.

"What a good boyfriend," Kitty crooned.

Kurt winked as he shoveled cereal into his mouth. "Now you see what you missed out on, huh?"

Kitty snorted, getting some milk up her nose. "Ugh, like gross."

Kurt grinned. "Soo, are you ready for Boom Boom's party tonight?"

"At this rate, I'll be ready for bed by dinner time. I don't even want to think about clubbing."

"Then you'd better find the time for a power nap, because Boom Boom will kill you if you don't show up. And now you can't just walk through a wall or two to escape her."

"I know, I know. Besides, it wouldn't be fair to Rogue. I pretty much convinced her to come. I can't bail out now."

"Maybe you can make it fun for yourself. Take, say, a _date_."

Kitty wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, I'm sure that Rogue would be super thrilled if I bringing a boy to a party she barely wants to go to. Besides, it's not like I have anyone to ask."

"I think you mean, no one you _want_ to ask," Kurt ribbed.

Kitty gave him a smile, but he must have seen its thinness because he dropped his playful demeanor quickly. "Hey, you are only awake because of a nightmare, right? I mean, if there's anything you want to talk about…?"

This time Kitty's smile was real. "Thanks Kurt, I'm okay. It really was just a bad dream."

"Yeah…" Kurt looked awkwardly around the room for a moment, before sighing and setting his spoon down with seriousness. "Look Kitty, Scott may have said a few things to me earlier. And, well, you know that I don't like Avalanche. In fact I think the guy's a jerk and all wrong for you. But if you ever _want_ to talk to someone about it."

Kitty put her hand over Kurt's and felt five, bare-skinned fingers under hers. "I know. Thanks. But I'm really fine." She gave his hand a light squeeze. He looked relieved. Then she stood, clearing her bowl to the sink. "I think I'm just going to try to get some sleep before sunrise, and then tonight I'll go to the party and try to enjoy myself. It'll be great."

"You sound _so_ convinced. Maybe you really should try bringing someone," Kurt said, playfulness returning. "But be careful about it. Rumor has it that one of the new recruits might just die of happiness if you asked him on a date."

Kitty nearly dropped her bowl in the sink. "_What_?"

"Let's just say I have my little birds throughout the institute," Kurt grinned, making a sprinkling motion with hand as if he were scattering seeds.

"And just _who_ might these little birds happen to be?"

"Ah ah ah!" Kurt lifted a scolding finger as he leaned back in his chair, "I don't betray my sources. It's the first rule for the Master of Whispers."

"Master of-" Kitty laughed, rolling her eyes. "Kurt, you seriously need to stop watching so much of that show. It's taking over your life."

"If by 'that show' you mean the best series of all time, then: kindly watch it before you diss it. One does not simply insult Game of Thrones."

"Yeah, yeah. Maybe I will," Kitty waved a dismissive hand. "Sometime. But right now I'm going to try and get some – what? What's wrong?"

At the table, Kurt's entire body had gone whip-like from lax to rigid, his eyes sharp and fixed on something behind her. Kitty had done too many missions with Nightcrawler to not recognize when something was wrong. Flashes of her slipping through the ground, dark and suffocating, flit across her brain. She looked down, but her feet were still solid and firmly planted on the floor.

"I think I saw… something." Kurt said quietly, getting up as silent as a whisper. He padded past her barefoot to the entryway and slowly poked his head out into the hallway, looking left and then right. Kitty came up alongside him, sliding off her slippers as well to make less noise.

"What?" she whispered quietly.

Kurt nodded down the hall towards the living hall, his golden brown eyes fixed on a place that looked like nothing but shadow to her. "Someone was just there, watching us."

"Are you sure?" Kitty whispered around her stomach, which was suddenly halfway up her throat.

"If only I had my powers," Kurt whispered angrily, "I could teleport down there and…"

"You don't," Kitty said, putting her hand on his shoulder softly. "But you have me. Come on, let's go check it out together."

They crept down the hall in the dark, sliding in and out of shadows until they reached the end of the hall. Then they slid into the great room, pulling back curtains and checking all the crannies. They went into the foyer and looked under the grand stair.

"Are you sure you saw something?" Kitty asked once they'd combed the library, still whispering despite herself.

A flash of silent lightning illuminated the frown on Kurt's face. "_Definitely_."

"Maybe it was just one of the kids sneaking around," Kitty suggested. "They're not supposed to be up this late. Maybe they heard us talking and went back to their room."

"Maybe you're right," Kurt said, but Kitty saw him shaking his head slowly. "I just thought… it looked like someone I'd seen before. And I didn't like the way they were creeping around. Like…"

"Like what?" Kitty pressured, his silence doing more to shred her nerves than anything else.

"Like someone who was watching the two of us, and didn't want to be found."

* * *

AN: BUM BUM BUM. More direct Lancitty interactions to come soon.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: **Thanks for all the faves and reviews - reviews make my day. :)

* * *

"Um, Jean?"

_Say something! _she willed mentally. _Don't just leave him there on the… _

floor, literally at her feet, bent down on one knee. Just the way she'd dreamt of so many times.

"Oh God."

A worry line appeared over Scott's ruby-quartz glasses, hardly noticeable at all but Jean recognized it in an instant. To be fair, her response had been a bit vague: Oh God, _yes_? Oh God, _no_? More than anything Jean wanted to pull him up off the floor before somebody came into the west study and saw them like this.

And why _now_? Her brain raced alongside her heart. Field leader or not, sometimes Scott Summers had the worst timing.

"Okay. Now I'm getting kind of nervous," Scott said. "This isn't actually as comfortable as it looks."

For some bogus reason, the idea of his discomfort was what finally snapped Jean out of it. She snatched the little black box out of his hands, a bit roughly. For a moment, she thought he might snatch it back from her, out of fighter's instinct. Logan's training did that to you sometimes. "Okay. Okay. Here's what we need to do. We need to go talk about this somewhere else," she said, holding up the little velvet box as if it were a half-eaten cookie before dinner and Scott was her five-year-old. She hauled him up by the shirt – the forest green button-down she'dbought him last Christmas, she realized. As he stood, she got a noseful of his soap another smell that was Scott and Scott alone. Suddenly, Jean wanted nothing more than to pitch into his broad chest and lose herself there. God, when was the last time they'd touched like that? When she'd felt Scott's hard, bare weight pressing down on every inch of her and the sheets swallowed them up for blissful hours? Suddenly, it felt like years.

But first she had to handle this.

"Come on." Not their room, because God that would feel like suffocation. Nowhere inside the mansion, anyone could stumble upon them. Outside then, maybe the gardens. Hardly anyone but Ororo went out there anyway and the noise of the running fountains would make it harder for someone to overhear what they were saying. Right. The gardens, then. Jean hauled Scott through the mansion, pulling enough to un-tuck his shirt from his pants, not letting go until they were in front of the grand fountain, drowning the smell of roses. Belatedly, Jean realized that moving to an even _more_ romantic venue might constitute as sending mixed signals. Whoops.

"Jean, what-"

"Why now?" Jean said, brandishing the ring-box. _Don't lose your temper, Jean_. _Be calm. You can be adult about this._ "I mean, what even _is _this? You know what, no, I know _exactly_ what this is."

"Uh… great?"

"And I get it. Our powers are gone. We're all scared. But _this_, Scott? What were you _thinking_?" On second thought, screw being adult. This was _important,_ damn it. And Scott Summers had botched it. Jean wanted to cry. "I mean, you can't just use _us _to make yourself feel better about everything that's happening, Scott. I thought you had more respect for our relationship. Doing _this_ to me now? It's not like we even know what's going to happen! We might never get our powers back. And sure, this will make you feel good for a while, but sooner or later it won't be enough to hide what's happening. And we're supposed to be _real_, not just some way to make yourself feel good when-"

"_What_? Jean," Scott took her by the shoulders, looking firmly into her eyes. "Jean, listen to yourself. You're turning into a crazy person. Slow down. Now, what are you talking about?"

Jean turned away, staring down at the little black box in her hands, taking a deep breath. She hadn't even opened it yet. She wondered for a moment what Scott had chosen for her… "It's what you said to Kitty, isn't it? We're all looking for comfort because of our powers. We just want someone hold us and have something good happen to distract us from all the bad. So…"

"Is that what you think?" He came around to face her, but she found herself only staring at the ground. "Jean Grey. I bought that ring because I love you. _I love you_, Jean. And for the record, I bought that eight months ago."

"You… what?"

"I bought what you're holding in your hands eight months ago."

Jean gaped. "But then… why now?"

Scott shrugged, "I was waiting for the right moment."

"And you thought _this_ was it?"

"No," Scott said, pulling her closer, her shoulders in his hands. "But first it was the lunatic with the death ray in Cuba, and then the Juggernaut was loose all Thanksgiving, and after that you were so stressed about your exams that you were exploding pencils in your sleep, and then Alvers collapsed a building on my head and I couldn't do this from a hospital bed. And then, one day I realized it – there's _never_ going to be a 'right time' for you and me, Jean. Look at us. We're X-Men. We're in our twenties and we've had over forty brushes with death. Every five minutes it's something else. Jean," he said, giving her a little shake to make sure she was still with him, "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, not waiting for the right moment to ask. Yeah, our powers are gone and it's all messed up. But I'm not going to let anything else stop me anymore. I love you, Jean. I want to marry you. So, that's why _this_."

She stared at him. She stared at this perfect, perfect man who was her best friend and the love of her life and the only thing in the world that could turn her into an irrational, horrible mess of a person. She looked down at the box she still hadn't opened. "I know." She said.

"You do?"

"Yeah. Everything I was saying before… I think I was just talking about myself." She looked up to his face. "This means so much to me, Scott. It really does. But… I can't say yes right now."

Thank God she couldn't actually see his eyes. Instead all she found in those red lenses was her own face, her own selfish, horrible reflection. "With everything that's going on, I just… I wake up in the morning feeling strange. _Wrong_. Like there's only half of me walking around in my skin. Without my powers, it's like I can't even understand who I am right now. And I can't make this kind of decision when I'm looking for myself."

Scott's hands slipped from her shoulders, falling to his sides. "I understand."

And suddenly she was looking at Cyclops, not Scott, with all his battle hardness and that grim line of a mouth. The man who never smiled. Who was used to having the things that he cared the most about ripped bloodily away from him, and never showing so much as a flicker of pain. Standing right in front of her, he was a world away.

"I'm sorry," she said.

And he said nothing.

"I'm not saying never, you know. I'm just saying not right now."

"I know," he said.

"Can I keep this?" she asked, holding up the box. "I won't open it. It just…" it just didn't feel right giving it back to him.

A thin smile did come back then, but it seemed more like a wound painted across his face than any kind of solace. "Sure," he said, voice a bit hoarse. "Not like I'll be needing it."

She reach up, placing her hand along that hard face. "Thank you," she said gently. She would have kissed him, but that would have been cruel. So instead she left him standing alone in the roses, gripping the little box in both hands.

XxXxXxX

"What do you think? Black or white?"

"White," Kitty answered, without looking up. She didn't need to look – she was good at this. That, and Amara had been agonizing over the two mini-dresses for the past forty minutes.

"Are you sure? I mean, isn't white for weddings?"

"No." Kitty started the ruby program on her laptop and pushed it aside to run for the night. "Trust me, white. Here." She moved across the room to zip up Amara, resting her chin on the other girl's shoulder as they both looked at Magma's reflection in Kitty's full-legnth mirror.

"You're gorge," Kitty said.

"Not overdressed?"

As if on cue, Kitty's door flew open and Tabitha rolled in wearing sky-high, fishnet stiletto booties, a studded neon pink barely-there mini-skirt, and cut out top that was more bare than there. She'd used pastels to paint pink streaks into her blonde hair, painted her lips a dark cherry red, and had bright pink cat-eyes that, Kitty was pretty sure, had been painted with glow in the dark makeup. There weren't even words to describe all the different kinds of clashing that was going on.

"…I think you're fine," Kitty whispered into Amara's ear.

"Alright girlies, are we rollin or what? Everyone's waiting for you two out front!" Tabitha stopped to gave Kitty a measuring up-and-down look. "Me_ow_, girl. You're going in a tee and panties? Bold."

Kitty put her hands on her hips. "Obviously, I'm _changing_," she said, stalking to her closet.

"Wait, Tabitha. We're just going to a club right? I mean, just a normal club?" Amara clarified nervously, still gaping at Boom Boom's wardrobe.

"You'll be totally fine in your white dress," Kitty assured, pulling on a black mini-skirt and a deep cobalt halter-top, backless to the waist. She checked her makeup in the mirror quickly, and took one last look at her program to make sure there weren't any bugs so far. Everything looked fine.

"Oh come on, enough work," Tabitha grabbed Kitty's wrist, hauling her and Amara out of Kitty's room and toward the foyer. Three cars were loitering with their headlights on in the driveway.

"How many of us are there?" Amara asked, nervous.

Tabitha pointed to the Volvo, "Icicle-boy, Jubilee, Cannonball, Wolfsbane all in there. Berzerker and Sunspot in the Prius with Kurt and Amanda. You two, me, and Rogue in my car."

"What about Scott and Jean? I thought they were coming."

Tabitha shrugged. "Haven't seen 'em."

Kitty and Amara climbed into the back seat of Tabitha's second-hand car. Rogue was sitting in the front with her arms crossed, wearing gloves and a sheer, long-sleeved, black dress, tights and boots. She looked uncomfortable as fuck.

"Hey," Kitty smiled. "Happy birthday."

Rogue sent her a look in the rearview that said she was having some serious second thoughts. Probably a result of having waited in the car with Tablitha for over a quarter of an hour. Thankfully before Rogue could climb out of her own birthday van, Tabitha kicked it into gear and floored it toward the gas. As they pulled out, Kitty noticed another pair of headlights pulling out of the mansion and falling in line with their train.

"Whose in_ that _car?"

"Maybe Jean and Scott changed their minds?" Amara suggested.

"I don't think that's Scott's car," Kitty squinted. The headlights were too far off the ground.

"Who cares? The bigger the party the better!"

XxXxXxX

And a big party it was. The club was packed. A fog machine had coated the dance floor in a thick mist that curled and twisted against dancers like a living thing. The strobing lights turned the crush of bodies from face-less, black shapes outlined in gold glow to a flash of purple, then blue, pink, yellow clarity.

Rogue held tight to Kitty's hand as the girls danced together, the X-Men dancing loosely all around them.

"Ah need water!" Rogue said, fanning at herself when the music changed tempo.

"Want me to come?" Kitty shouted over the music.

"No, I'll be back!" Rogue said, pushing her way carefully through the dance floor. A guy jolted into her and she fended him off with her elbow, pushing him gently away with a gloved hand. _This_ was why she'd worn clothes that fully covered herself. As she got farther from her friends, the rush of partying and alcohol started to die away. The music went from being the pounding of her life's blood to a deafening, distracting ache as she concentrated on getting through without laying anyone flat on their back.

By the time she was out of the crowd she was suddenly exhausted. She asked the leering bartender for water, draining it as the last of the rush started to die away in her. The last thing she felt like doing was pushing her way back into that mess. She scanned the room for another way to bide her time. And she found it, a door behind the bar that read: EMPLOYEES ONLY.

Perfect escape.

When the bartender was occupied with another couple, Rogue slipped past, pushing the door open, finding a back staircase, and following it up onto an enclosed rooftop deck that looked like it was closed for renovation. The pounding bass was dampened up there to a low thudding beneath her feet. Rogue breathed in the fresh air, grateful for the quiet. She glanced down through the glass skylight and picked out her friends from the writhing mass of the dance floor. The X-men were lit up technicolor in the strobe light, laughing and dancing together like normal kids. Which, Rogue reminded herself, was what they actually were, for now. They looked like they were having fun.

She moved away from the skylight in case one of them looked up and saw her, and opting instead to stand by the roof ledge and look out over the city, a landscape of streetlamps, nightclubs and lit windows burning in the night. She knew she only heard him behind her because he'd wanted her to. But she didn't show her surprise – wouldn't give him that satisfaction. "An just what d'ya think _you're _doin' up here?" She asked the darkness.

"Lurking after pretty girls, _Cher._" It answered, and then Gambit slid out of the shadows, all smoke and card tricks and the burning, purple-red coals of his eyes. Even in jeans and a black tee shirt, Remy Lebeau looked like trouble waiting to happen. Rogue fought the urge to just stare at him. Sometimes she still couldn't believe he was for real. "Smoke?" he offered, taking a lighter and cigarette out of god knew where.

"No thanks," Rogue said tightly, "I don't."

"Hope you don't mind me joinin you," Remy said, stepping up alongside her and leaning against the roof edge. He was close enough that she could smell the cigarette on him, didn't even have to turn her face away from the city to see his features light up red as he dragged smoke down his lungs.

"Don't really have a choice, do ah? You've been following me around for days."

"Well," Gambit said, suddenly somber. "You're unhappy, _Cher_. An' I don' like dat."

"Oh? Who said ah was?"

"Would a happy girl be standing alone on a rooftop while all her friends had a good time downstairs?"

"It's my party," Rogue said, and saw him smile red in the night.

"Go on an' cry if you want to, Remy's shoulder be right here."

_Seriously?_

"Why do you even care if I'm unhappy or not?" Rogue said.

Suddenly he was much closer to her than he'd been before, though for the life of her she hadn't seen him move. "Oh, _Cher_," he said, his voice low and smokey behind her ear, "Remy think you can do better den _dat_." His hands smoothed around Rogue's waist and pulled her back into him. The broad, hard plane of his chest came against her back, and the light press of his waist and thigh on her ass. Normally, this would be her cue to kick and holler and fling curses until the thief let her go, laughing all the way like the cat that got the cream. But tonight she just didn't have the energy to fight him.

So what if this was all just a game to him? She could pretend for an hour. A night. "One day," she said, "you're gonna get too close, and mah powers are gonna knock you flat on your ass, Cajun. An on dat day, ah'm gonna stand over you an _laugh_."

"You do dat, _Cher_," he said, and she could feel the smile in his voice. "If it goes d'way Remy's _plannin_', he'll be laughin right along wit you."

"Maybe," she said, leaning back into him. "If you're still alive enough."

XxXxXxX

"Where's Rogue?"

Tabitha shrugged, pulling Kitty in to dance with her. A couple boys they didn't know whistled. Kitty ignored it, dancing half-heartedly as she scanned the packed club for her missing friend. Nightcrawler and Amanda were sitting at the bar. Bobby was dancing with Jubilee, Sunspot and Wolfsbane. But Rogue wasn't anywhere she could see.

"Hey," a hand fell heavily on her shoulder.

"No thanks," Kitty said automatically, brushing off the advance before the guy could get his hopes up. In front of her, Tabitha grinned.

When the hand came back to land on her bare shoulder though, Kitty turned, irked. "Hey man, I said 'no thanks', I'm only dancing with my – _Javelin_?"

The blonde haired X-man smiled at her, a slower motion than usual. "Hi," he said. And she realized quickly that he was drunk.

"What are you _doing _here?" Kitty practically screeched as the kid started slumping forward.

"Whoa. Thanks," he grinned as Kitty caught him and steadied him back on his feet. "Boom Boom got us in."

"_Us_?" She followed Javelin's gaze to the back of the club, off the dance floor, where a group of the new recruits sat in a booth together. Kitty gaped. All those kids were seventeen to nineteen, tops, and their tabletop was littered with empty bottles, glasses and shot glasses. This was a huge, expensive, _illegal _mistake. She shot Tabitha a look of daggers.

Boom Boom shrugged, "_What? _They followed us here and then called me to get them in. What was I supposed to do, say no? Can you say _killjoy_?"

"They're not legal," Kitty hissed.

"Yeah, but they're here, so why worry about it now?"

"If they had their powers -" Kitty said in a low, hot voice.

"Re_lax_, it's not like all our powers are just going to come back right now, is it?"

"Hey," a guy in the crowd came up to Tabitha, two shot glasses with lime in his hands. "I bought you a frink." He grinned, offering one to her. "You like tequila?"

"Love it!" Tabitha grinned, taking both, to the man's surprise and disappointment. Boom Boom then handed the shot he'd meant for himself to Kitty, who just continued to glower.

"No?" Tabitha grinned, "how about you then, Romeo?"

"Oh no," Kitty said, intercepting it. The boy was already looking gorgeous, glaze-eyed and way too drunk for his own good.

"You touch it, you drink it! Unless you want to give it to lover boy!" Tabitha hooted, shooting hers down and biting down on her lime.

Kitty grit her teeth, "Here, hold this," she said, handing the lime wedge to Javelin, who took it, looking confused as to why the hell there was a citrus wedge wetting his palm.

"I swear, Boom Boom, you _force_ me to get drunk in order to deal with you," Kitty shook her head, and downed the shot. She cringed for a moment at the alcohol sting, and the following burst of warmth. She held her hand out for the lime wedge, but nothing came her way. She looked up, to see Javelin standing over her with all his height, the lime in his mouth, wedge-side out, clearly inviting her to take it from his mouth. The blush burned on her cheeks almost as hard as the alcohol.

Boom Boom cheered, egging her on. Javelin leaned in farther. Kitty could feel Amara and Bobby stop dancing to stare at her.

Kitty snatched the lime out of his mouth with her fingers, and stuffed it, unbitten into the empty shot glass. Then she grabbed Javelin's wrist and started to drag him to the back table and all the other kids that were _not_ supposed to be here. "You are so lucky Scott and Jean didn't come," she said as she passed Tabitha, weaving her way past the dance floor.

XxXxXxX

Within an hour they had all moved from the dance floor to the back booth, where they could monitor the new kids. After a couple rounds with them, monitoring had turned to truth or dare with shot penalties, and Kitty found that the new kids actually weren't such bad drinking company. And besides, what was one night of fun? They were normal kids. And, regardless of whether or not Scott would have torn their heads off for it, this was what normal kids did. Plus, the music was great. And the drinks were sooo good. Scott was a poop, and it was possible that she was just a little drunk.

Or maybe very drunk, Kitty thought as she let Kurt pull her up onto the tabletop to dance with him, Boom Boom, Bobby, and Jubliee. Come to think of it, she hadn't seen Rogue in a while. Where was she again? Florida, maybe? Amanda squealed and laughed from her seat, pushing Kurt away whenever he tried to pull her up with him. Kitty laughed, nearly slipping off the edge of the table. Someone caught and steadied her. She didn't have to look to know it was Javelin.

"Thanks," she said, though her world began to spin a little. Suddenly it was _hot_. Suffocating. She got down off the tabletop. "Actually, I think I'm going to go get some air."

"I'll come," Javelin said.

"No, I'm fine," Kitty pushed him lightly back into the booth. "Besides if you come out, there's no guarantee you can get back in again, _baby_."

She turned around before he could give a counter argument. Kitty put her hand on the wall to find her way out the front door, staggering just a little. Maybe she_ had _had a few drinks more than she should have. The burst of cool night air as she got onto the street was like surfacing from ten feet under the water. Clarity started to return to her and she kicked off her heels and leaned back against the wall. "Oh man," she breathed to herself. That was better.

"I like you."

Kitty blinked, looking up at the night sky, then rolling her head toward the voice. Javelin was there, leaning against the wall about two arm lengths away, staring at her with a strange expression. "Jav? I thought I said-"

"No, _I_ said… like you."

"Uh." Not the most eloquent of replies. But Javelin looked like he was about to keel over, and here he was confessing a crush outside a club when they were both a bit too drunk. Or in his case, maybe way too drunk.

"You like me too," he said, smiling, starting toward her. "Boom Boom said I should kiss you."

That sobered her up. She could feel reason start trying to swim up to the top of her brain. "Uh, Javelin. Look, you're drunk. I'm also a… little drunk. I think. You probably just need some rest. In the morning we can-"

"Be naked together," he smiled. "That was a joke. Kind of." Javelin said, taking hold of her arm and coming around so that he was in front of her and the wall was behind her. "But this isn't: I _like_ you. I've liked you since I started here. You're funny, and cool, and smart, and sexy." He leaned in, and she could smell the alcohol and sweat on him. And this wasn't right at all.

_Oh God. _

"Jav, come on. Back off, okay?" She put her hand on his chest, trying to hold him back, and was surprised by the weight of him as he pushed her hand away and fell in closer. "I don't want to hurt you, Jav," she lied. She _wanted _to hurt him. A lot. In fact, currently, she was beyond pissed. But restraint and the knowledge that despite being younger, Javelin was at least twice as big as her, and at least that much stronger, held her back.

"Then just let me do this," he said, a little desperate, grasping her chin roughly in his fingers and tilting it upward toward his mouth.

"Jav, come on. Get off." Kitty snapped, twisting her face away into the wall and closing her eyes tight.

"Relax," Javelin coaxed, slurring, still crowding her bodily into the wall. She could feel his face bending down to find hers. "I know I'm younger, but can handle it. I'm just gonna show you. I'm just going to kiss you, and then I'm just gonna-"

And then he wasn't there anymore. Kitty looked up tentatively, in case she needed to shield her face again. But there wasn't any need. Javelin had gone from crowding her up to being a good breathing distance away, his toes barely grazing the ground as he was yanked up by the shirt collar and choked by the fabric.

"And _then_, you're gonna walk away. Before I change my mind about leaving your legs on."

* * *

**AN**: Guess who


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N**: Special thanks for all the sweet reviews - you guys really help me keep up my steam ;)

* * *

"Pietro. What. Is. This?"

"What's it look like?" Pietro grinned, vaulting over the back of the Jeep like it was nothing.

"Another stupid idea."

"_Ehhh_! Wrong-o! This, my friend, is a good time. It's okay, I don't expect you to know one when you see it."

In the back seat of the Jeep, Fred suddenly looked uncomfortable. Beside him, Wanda was already trying to put distance between herself and Todd, who was throwing her heated, backseat looks. Behind the wheel, Lance was just glowering.

"Come _on_." Pietro gestured from the unenthused group to the nightclub, with its thumping music and lit windows cycling through the entire spectrum of the rainbow like a two-cent Christmas decoration. "You've gone to bars and concerts. You've done a_ high school dance _for crying out loud. This is like a concert and a bar rolled into one."

Wanda rolled her eyes. "Do us a favor, Pietro. Stop pretending this is anything other than an excuse to do what _you_ want." Still, she let herself out of the car.

"Um, so. I don't really… dance," Freddy said, huge and awkward with embarrassment and looking like he wanted to shrink into himself for the first time in his life.

"No," Pietro snarked, "you roll."

"I got moves!" Todd offered, leaping out of the car and landing beside a sneering Wanda. "I'm slick."

"Yeah, slick with _something_," Lance pulled out the key and slammed the driver's door closed behind him. "Try showering. Maybe it'll come off."

"Come _on_, liven up! If it's a drag, we bail. Not like we can hang at the house anyway. _Somebody_ demo'ed half of it."

Lance finished tucking his keys inside his back pocket, pushing past Pietro pointedly. "Fine. Come on, Fred. Out. I'm not leaving you in my Jeep to pop the tires."

Freddy groaned, starting to lever himself out of the backseat.

"Pietro," Wanda said under her breath, falling in beside her brother as the group followed a grudging Lance. "What are you up to?"

"Sweet sis," Quicksilver grinned, "why do I have to be 'up to' anything?"

"Please. Mr. '_Stay back and don't fuck up my game_' wants us to out with him?"

"Wanda, Wanda, Wanda," Pietro shook his head. "All I want's to have a good time with my friends and only sister. And, hey, if _someone_ happens to keep handing Lance drinks and he gets loose enough to take a girl home, would that be the end of the world?" he asked innocently.

"Of his, maybe," Wanda said. "Has anyone ever told you, Pietro: 'matchmaker' really doesn't suit you."

"It ain't rocket science, Wanda. Everyone knows that a good time and a couple 'a one-night stands is the fastest way to get over an ex."

Wanda rolled her eyes, falling away from her brother and shaking her head.

The Brotherhood gathered at the back of the line, except Pietro who streaked straight to the bouncer, a heavyset man wearing biker's gloves and a face that looked like it was cut from stone.

"Yo, Ty," Quicksilver quipped, grinning. "You got the job here? Nice."

"_Dude_," Fredy said, awed.

"Check it. Pietro's _actually_ got a death wish. Like, who knew?"

But to the Brotherhood's shock, a slow smile spread like melting butter on the bouncer's brick of a face. "Pietro," he said. "Good to see you, man." He offered an open palm.

"He's lookin' for a bribe," Lance said quietly. "Gotta be."

But Pietro just ran an empty, open hand over Ty's palm in a street-easy, high-five. Then he nodded to his group, who stood gawking from the back of the line. "Brought my buddies to check the new place out. Cool?"

Ty glanced to the back of the line, and then gestured for them to move up to the front. A wave of complaints swelled from the line, but Ty seemd to have conveniently gone deaf, saying, "Any friend of Pietro's is a friend of mine."

Todd, Wanda, Freddy and Lance gaped.

"You heard the man. Get in, let's go!" Pietro dashed to his group and started corralling them toward the entrance, past a line of indignant girls in mini-dresses and cologne-clouded boys, all glaring daggers into the Brotherhood's backs. "_Come on_. _Move_ it," Pietro hissed. "And could ya _try_ not looking like you've never cut a fucking line before? Huh? Later, Ty!"

"Any time, Pietro," the bouncer's deep, husky voice followed after them, only to be drowned out by the pounding of dance music.

"Uh, like, what just happened?" Todd asked, snapping out of his shock.

"How do _you_ know _him_?" Wanda hissed, removing herself from Pietro's hands.

"Who, Ty? He used to let me into clubs for a couple thousand, back when I was robbing gas stations. Come to think of it, I should probably start butterin' him up again before he gets pissy."

Lance rolled his eyes. He couldn't take much more of this. "Whatever. I'm going to the bar."

"_Alright_! That's what I'm talking about," Pietro crowed. "C'mon guys, stick with me and enjoy the ride!"

XxXxX

Pietro ditched the ride within fifteen minutes for a pair of salacious brunettes on the dance floor, possibly twins.

"Man," Freddy sighed, staring at the spot where Pietro had disappeared into the thick of the grinding crowd. "Pietro's got it _easy_."

Just then, Todd reappeared, clutching two half-consumed drinks. Judging from the pink lipstick smudged around the rim of one, Lance was pretty sure Todd had lifted them off an unsuspecting couple. Not like he could afford them on his own. He stopped short at the sight of Fred and Lance alone at the bar. "'Ey, have you seen Wanda?" Todd asked, nervous and scanning the room. "Either of you know where Wanda is?"

Lance glanced up at the upper level lounge, where Wanda was leaning on a railing, not-ignoring a dark-haired, broody looking guy with a lip piercing. Not-ignoring was the closest Wanda ever came to flirting. She caught Lance's glance and, seeing Todd with drinks in hand, sent back a warning glare hot enough to melt eyeballs.

"Dunno," Lance said blankly, taking another swig.

"Aw, _man_," Todd whined, dropping his half-consumed prizes onto the bar. "And I worked hard to steal these too."

"Hey. Isn't that Boom Boom?" Fred said suddenly.

Lance's head snapped around, quickly narrowing in to where Fred was staring. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the visual overload of the fog machine and rainbow strobe light. But even with those distractions it wasn't exactly hard to pick Tabitha out. When Lance saw who her dancing partner was, he felt his insides grind to a halt.

Todd wasn't far behind. "Yeah, and… isn't that?" he abruptly bit his tongue, eyes darting to a rigid Lance. "Uh, _heh_. Looks like… they're just having a X-geek night out," Todd offered, his voice pitching higher than usual. "Just, uh, here with friends!" He sent a quick little prayer up to whatever God there might or might not be to make it so. Todd had barely escaped the last Lance-outburst that had crushed half the Brotherhood House. He wasn't eager to relive the experience any time soon.

It was as if the universe were laughing at him.

No sooner had Todd finished his plea than did a tall, blonde-haired kid he didn't recognize pop what looked like a lime wedge between his lips and proceed to lean over Kitty Pryde as she downed a shot. Todd rapidly established his shortest exit route.

Thankfully, she didn't kiss him. Still, Todd kept a cautious eye on Lance's hand as its grip whitened around his beer. Aside from that, Avalanche's face showed not a hint of expression. The Brotherhood boys tensely watched as Kitty grabbed the stranger by the wrist and started dragging him off the dance floor toward the other end of the club, out of sight. Beside Todd, Lance was wound tight as coil, expression blank, eyes fixed on the spot where Kitty had disappeared. Todd could practically feel impending carnage radiating off him.

"Uh. Well…" Todd grimaced, struggling to find something placating to say.

Luckily, he was spared the mental challenge when Lance stood, barstool scraping. "Air," was all he said, before vanishing in the direction of the entrance.

Fred and Todd watched him go.

"I think I peed myself," Todd admitted, once Lance was out of sight.

"Aw, he's not bad," Fred replied, though there seemed to be an audible hitch in his voice.

"Easy for _you _to say," Todd snapped. "You get hit by bulldozers and walk away. Some of us are more fragile than –," he stopped, eyes catching on something upward, "is that Wanda?"

XxXxXxX

Getting air meant sitting in his Jeep for what felt like hours, heavy rock buzzing in his semi-blown speakers, feet propped up in the passenger seat, back crunched up against the driver-side door, and trying not to create a new fault line under the nightclub, Kitty, and that blond asshole. Instead, Lance settled for glowering at the entrance and _imagining _all the ways he could bring it down, if he wanted to. In his mouth he worked on a toothpick, his fifth, the wet end already starting to splinter on his tongue. Lance didn't smoke, for some reason cigarettes had never done anything for him, but he liked having something in his mouth. He liked the feeling of having something scraping between his teeth and twirling over his tongue, occupying his temper along with his mouth. But tonight the usually calming habit did nothing for him; the same infuriating string of images continued in their incessant loop, interrupted by the occasional violent fantasy.

Lance sunk lower in his seat, grinding down on the toothpick. For the _n_th time that night, he thought about driving off and leaving the guys to find their own damn ride home. He had half the mind to do it too, except that the other half, the dimly-lit back half that he was trying to keep under wraps was niggling at him that he still hadn't seen _her _come out yet and maybe when she did it would be with that blonde guy with the lime and –

Lance bit through his toothpick accidentally, lightly cutting his tongue against his teeth. Something about the pain brought back the memory of Kitty's palm striking against his face, the hot sting it had left behind, deep in his skin like a sunburn. Lance had been struck before, many times. He had felt immeasurably worse pain on a semi-regular basis. But he wasn't sure if the sting of any battle injury had ever lasted so long before. He couldn't remember one anyway.

Lance spat splinters into the foot well and sat up to dig another toothpick from his glove compartment. Fuck Kitty Pryde. She wasn't worth it. Not any of this. Lance told himself viciously for the millionth time in his life. _None_. And behind his eyes all he could see was the smooth, cream-colored line of her back. The bend of a blonde stranger leaning over her, looking for her mouth. Lance slammed his fist onto the horn of his jeep and it blared loudly into the night. A couple of people standing in line to get into the club peered over at him. Lance turned on his cabin lights and flipped them off. They all quickly averted their attention, somewhat to his disappointment.

But, if he hadn't been busy scanning for one idiot brave enough to return his gaze or rude gesture, he might not have seen her when she stumbled out, looking flushed and drunk and breathless. Alone.

He felt the little muscles along his jaw tighten as she wandered to the sidewall, kicking off those ridiculous shoes and leaning back. In the dark it was relatively hard to make out her face, but Lance didn't need to light to recognize Kitty Pryde. Just when he was half way to convincing himself that _no _the girl he was staring at _wasn't_ _worth it_ and he should just drive away for fuck's sake, and screw Pietro and his ridiculous plans, another figure stumbled out behind her. Blond.

Lance was ready to kill something. _Not worth it_, _not even _fucking _worth it,_ he tried again, meanwhile his body sat itself up and opened the door.

XxXxXxX

"Jav, come on. Get off." Kitty snapped, twisting her face away into the wall and closing her eyes tight.

"Relax," Javelin coaxed. "I know I'm younger, but can handle it. I'm just gonna show you. I'm just going to kiss you, and then I'm just gonna-"

And then he wasn't there anymore. Kitty looked up tentatively, in case she needed to shield her face again. But there wasn't any need. Javelin had gone from crowding her up to being a good breathing distance away, his toes barely grazing the ground as he was yanked up by the shirt collar and choked by the fabric.

"And then you're gonna walk away, before I change my mind about leaving your legs on," Lance ground out, a faint but undeniable tremor in the ground delivered deadly emphasis. Lance threw Javelin down. The younger mutant rolled onto all fours and swung back up to his feet in one motion, looking drunk and rabid.

Logan's training, Kitty thought, noticing the smoothness of the motion. Good to know that the new recruits were taking well to it. Particularly Javelin, she admitted grudgingly.

Lance curled a fist, and the strip of ground Javelin stood on started to roll like the ocean or some sort of theme park ride. Javelin staggered, surprised. Then fell hard and rolled backward over himself. This time when he staggered up again it was only to vomit.

Lance made a disgusted noise and grabbed at Kitty's wrist. She stumbled after him as he pulled her around the corner, past the side of the club and to the back where there was only a pair of dumpsters and a chain link fence. He let go. For about five paces, Kitty thought he was just going to keep walking and leave her there, but then he came to a sudden halt, hands fisted at his sides and his back to her. She thought, in that moment, that he looked still as death.

_Strange,_ she thought, a bit edgy from the Javelin encounter. A bit drunk from all the alcohol. _Strange to see him here. Now. The last place I'd expected. _It would be a lie to say she hadn't spent the last few days imagining what it would be like to see Lance after the soccer field incident. But what she'd pictured was another round of silent, angry months between them; that was the way it always was when they fell apart. _This_ was definitely not what she'd had in mind. In her chest, she felt a keen, familiar pang. If she could just be honest with him, apologize and explain… _But you promised_, she reminded herself, sharply, still staring at his hard outline in the night. _You promised the professor you wouldn't._

"Tell me," he said suddenly, surprising her.

"What?"

"Tell me I did the right thing."

"Saving me from assault?" she could feel her brain operating slowly in a thick, intoxicated haze.

"No," Lance turned, hard in the eyes and looking murderous. "Keeping myself from murdering that kid."

Kitty blinked, then let out a bitter sort-of laugh. She knew that Javelin had only been drunk. And drunk people, especially underage kids, did stupid things they didn't mean. Maybe Javelin wouldn't even remember it in the morning. Still. He'd pushed her against a wall, and hadn't listened when she'd said _no. _The outrage still hadn't subsided. A small, drunken part of her thought, only for a moment, _He'd deserve it_.

Apparently, Lance read her thoughts off her face alone. The tarmac jolted angrily beneath them, emphatic as a curse. Normally, Kitty would have been lithe enough to catch her balance, but as it was she knocked back against wall, hurting herself a bit. Lance was striding back toward the front of the club. Javelin probably hadn't gone far. And, after Lance found him, he wouldn't be getting _anywhere _for the rest of his natural life. Jav was talented – undeniably so. but Lance had five years of experience on him. And more importantly, Kitty reminded herself sluggishly, Lance had his powers.

"Lance, don't." Kitty grabbed at his shoulder and gripped it hard, practically hissing at him. He halted, looking over his shoulder. She'd seen that expression before. Mostly he wore it when X-Men and Brotherhood faced off in battle. She didn't like it one bit.

"I don't want you to hurt him."

There was a loaded pause. And all along Kitty felt her heart thumping in her chest, and hoped he couldn't hear it. The truth was, without her powers and in her current state, there wouldn't be much she could do to stop him. "Tell me you won't hurt him," she demanded.

"Depends," he said acidly. "First tell me what happened."

Kitty let her hand slide down to his wrist. She wouldn't let go until he turned to face her. Until she was convinced that he wouldn't head back toward entrance, or release a shock wave in that direction. Suddenly, everything about this situation was what Xavier and Scott had warned her against. When she got involved with Lance Alvers, she put the others at risk. Like Javelin was right now. Stupid, drunk Javelin who didn't know any better and was only a kid. Endangered because of Lance. Because of her.

_What happened_? Lance's unanswered question throbbed in the silence between them.

Right. Like she was going to answer that honestly. She might as well tack a target between Javelin's eyes. And start evacuating the lower half of the city while she was at it. "He was just drunk," she said stupidly.

"Obviously," Lance cut, turning to face her fully. She let her hand slip away from his wrist. "But why didn't _you_ phase out?"

"And give myself away?" she lied, surprised at how quickly it came, and hoping to God that Lance hadn't somehow recognized Javelin from the institute. The new recruits had only joined a few months ago, but Lance did have an uncanny way with faces, even if he'd only seen them once. Maybe it was growing up on the wrong side of the tracks. Maybe it was the fact that his entire, pre-power childhood had required him to manipulate others in order to get by. But, callous as he was, Lance noticed people. He was surprising like that.

"People aren't exactly mutant friendly these days." Kitty tried again.

"Shocker," he said dryly. "Never saw that one coming."

And just like that, in that one succint sentence, he'd delivered another little jab at the X-Men. At everything she stood for. Incredible. Even when her nerves were going to pieces, Lance still found a way to step on them.

Kitty huffed, feeling her back go rigid and her shoulders rise up to her ears. Quickly, she lost any kind of genuine gratitude she might have felt for his intervening on her behalf. Also, that mushy panging feeling she'd been suffering from earlier. Sometimes, Lance was such a jerk. "Right," she bit out. "Well. I'm going back inside. Thanks for saving me or whatever."

This time it was Lance's turn to stop her. He gripped her upper arm so she couldn't pass. "We're not done," he said.

"We so are."

"No," Lance said. "We're not."

Kitty's stomach dropped to her knees belatedly, only now realizing the full weight of the situation. Lance's hand was on her. His hand was _on _her and suddenly all she could think about was that her powers were gone. Her alcohol slowed brain worked desperately for a solution, some way to distract him without letting him realize that she couldn't phase. She tried to remember the last time he'd let her go voluntarily. Oh, right. There was that last time when she'd slapped him. Did that count?

If only she could find a distraction…

"_Look_, a free Fender Stratocaster! All alone and abandoned!" she cried, pointing off into the distance behind Lance's back.

He didn't turn and unwittingly release her, as she'd hoped. Instead he just raised an eyebrow at her, slowly. His anger moved aside to make room for bemusement. "Are you drunk?"

_Yes_. "As _if_!"

Kitty tried her best to sound indignant, yanking to phase out of his grip. Or she would have done, if her powers had been working. She cursed under her breath. Apparently, it was still loud enough for him to hear.

Lance stared at her still solid arm. This was usually the part where he was left holding nothing but air. Apparently, he took her failure as an indicator of just how inebriated she was. "You're _definitely_ drunk," he said.

"Takes one to know one." What kind of comeback was that supposed to be?

"That's it," Lance huffed, and started to pull her back toward the front. Kitty followed, not seeing any alternative but protesting all the way. Plus, if Javelin was still there for some reason, she'd need to be able to throw herself between them. Thankfully, Javelin had removed himself. But Lance didn't seem to be looking for him. Instead, he marched her straight toward the parking lot. Kitty followed, confused. When she caught sight of his Jeep, she planted her heels into the pavement. She realized vaguely that she was barefoot. How had that happened?

"I'm not getting in your car," she said flatly. "Remember what happened the last time you tried to get me in your car?"

His grip tightened fiercely on her. She took that to be an angry _yes_.

She thought the people waiting outside the club might have been staring at them. If she were less drunk, or less irritated, she might have been embarrassed about it.

"Well you're not driving yourself home. And you're _not _going back in there to get alcohol poisoning." Lance pulled on her arm, and she leant her full weight backward petulantly. She knew she looked like a five-year old. She found she didn't care at all.

"Kitty," Lance said.

"_Lance_," Kitty replied.

His eyes sharpened at her, hand still on her wrist. Then, he took an unexpected, lunging step toward her. The sudden weight-shift made her fall backward. Kitty gave a little yelp and scrambled to catch herself, at which point Lance tugged her forward again, bending down as she staggered toward him, and slinging her up over his shoulder in one, clean motion. She would have been impressed if she weren't so very, very angry.

The people in line were definitely staring.

Kitty caught the eye of the bouncer, who started to come after them only to pause when he got a better look at Lance. After a second of hesitation, he fell back to the door pretended nothing was going on.

_What are you even paid for?_ Kitty thought angrily, still squirming and protesting.

Lance ignored her, which was infuriating. He carried her to his car and opened the passenger door with one hand, dropping her in as if she were a sack of groceries. Kitty started to wriggle her way out, still swearing. And geez, had Lance always been this strong? Now that she thought about it, she'd never actually had to out-strength him before. And that was probably a good thing, because it felt like trying to win a wrestling match against a slab of stone.

"You're too drunk to even use your powers," he muttered, exasperated as he pushed her back into her seat and drew the seatbelt across her. His ear passed close to her mouth as he reached over to click the buckle in and Kitty had a strange, savage desire to bite it. She quashed that desire. Quashed it hard and fast. For the fifth time that night she admitted to herself that she might be a tad drunk.

She settled for sticking her tongue out at him as he closed the passenger door. Lance stared at it, her tongue, until she got uncomfortable and drew it back in. Still, his gaze stayed on her mouth for a measured moment. He shook his head and walked around to the driver's side.

As he got in, Kitty glared pointedly at him. "Oh, so what? You're too good to wear your seatbelt but I have to wear mine? And by the way, I'm so _not_ going to the Brotherhood slum house, if that's where you're taking me."

Lance started the engine, ignoring her.

"They're gonna stop partying eventually, you know," Kitty continued. "And when they do, they'll notice I'm gone."

"Would you fucking just _relax_? I'm not kidnapping you." Lance snapped. "If you don't want to come with me so bad, just phase out of the fucking car."

Kitty abruptly shut up.

Lance stared hard at her, holding his dare in his eyes. After it became clear that she wasn't going to do anything, he shook his head, expression almost darkening. "I knew it," he said under his breath, sounding bitter.

Kitty's stomach plummeted. "Knew what?" she snapped.

Lance started the engine.

"Knew _what_?"

Without so much as acknowledging her, Lance flipped the radio on and blasted the speakers, drowning her out. She wouldn't be able to hear herself speak even if she kept trying to berate him.

Recognizing a hopeless situation when she saw one, Kitty sat back into her seat, folding her arms. She stayed alert long enough to watch Lance pull onto freeway, heading east, away from both the Brotherhood and the Institute. No matter how pointedly she stared at him, he kept his gaze fixed on the road.


	10. Chapter 10

**AN**: This was the hardest thing to write. Honest opinion: is this moving too fast? Also, happy long weekend guys :3

* * *

The clock reads 2:23 a.m. when he comes back from the Danger Room. Jean knows the exact time because she's spent the last few hours staring at the red glow of the alarm clock, unable to sleep. Only when the door quietly opens does she realize it's because she's been waiting for him.

Scott guides the door shut behind him and starts moving about the room, trying not to wake her. Or maybe more like, trying to avoid her. He'd locked himself in for an impromptu training session just before dinner and, field leader or not, a nine hour training session was excessive for anyone but Logan. Scott knew Jean went to bed early. He'd known it even before he'd moved into her room (their friends had exploded with hushed, gossipy whispers. The Professor had turned a kind, blind eye). Since the catastrophic afternoon, they hadn't seen each other. But Jean hadn't really been sure if it was coincidence until now. She'd admit she'd spent longer than usual in the lab with McCoy, but under the circumstances wasn't that to be expected? And they'd both made themselves conveniently scarce when Tabitha started knocking on doors for the party - but it wasn't like either of them had been party animals, was it?

But now, with Scott padding silently around their room at 2:23 in the morning and cursing quietly when the drawers bumped, now she was sure. They had planned their evenings around each other, consciously or not, each engineering their schedules so they wouldn't overlap. They were avoiding each other.

Strangely enough, Jean felt a sharp prick of guilt for being awake. So she lay quietly on her side of the bed, back to the door, eyes open in the dark. She listened to the sound of his shifting clothes. The faint smell of sweat. A barely audible scrape of breath.

_Should I say something? _The question simmered in the back of her skull.

She was painfully self-conscious of how still she was laying. Did she normally sleep this still? Was it obvious that she was faking? Was she even faking at all? After all, with the red light constantly streaming out of his eyes and reflecting against his lenses, Scott had perfect night vision. And while she lay still as death, Jean's eyes were open. He just hadn't looked at her face, presumably. Or maybe he had, and just chosen to pretend he hadn't. Maybe he was only pretending he didn't know she was awake as much as she was pretending to be asleep. Maybe he just had nothing to say.

(And in her nightstand drawer, the ring was practically searing a bright red hole through the wood).

All things considered, she couldn't blame him. Part of her was surprised he'd come back to their room all. It wasn't as if Scott had never been found bunking on the library couch after a fight.

The soft click of the bathroom door and the sound of pipes coming on told Jean he'd gotten into the shower. She stared at the alarm, hating every second that flicked by every minute. Everything about this night, in fact. This week. This month. Herself.

She was still awake when Scott came out an hour later, wet and smelling of soap, to lie as far as he could on the other side of the bed. He didn't curl in from behind her like he usually did, fitting the curve of her back into his chest. Instead, he lay like a stranger on the other side of the bed. Jean thought she could see the red blink of his visor against the ceiling.

This whole thing was ridiculous.

"Scott?"

On the other side of the bed, the faint sound of his breathing stopped. The red glow of his visor on the ceiling blinked out and didn't come back. She waited, still. Only silence answered her. Jean held it, hoped against it, and then let it pass. She decided to let him pretend he hadn't heard her, or that he was already asleep (but Scott never fell asleep quickly, even when he was exhausted and bloody, ground out to his bones and dragging himself to bed). What could it hurt to let him pretend? It was just another little lie falling in place between them. Another little bit of distance. It wasn't like she could blame him, could she? She owed it to him, didn't she?

XxXxXxX

When the jeep pulled to a stop, Kitty stirred, prying her eyes open to see what looked like a two story, brick box of a building. RICK'S GARAGE was painted in block caps across the front, illuminated by a lone, orange-hued street lamp. Lance pulled the keys out of the ignition.

Kitty blinked, startled that she'd fallen asleep. She scrubbed at her face. Her skin felt five inches thicker than usual. Her head was swimming. "Where is this?" She croaked.

"Auto shop." Lance said unhelpfully, getting out of the car as if they did this every weekend.

Kitty looked around. The lot was nearly empty. One or two other cars were stacked on the back of a carriage truck.

"You coming or what?"

Kitty scowled at Lance's retreating back but started fumbling with her seatbelt nonetheless. She wished, for the millionth time, that her powers hadn't bailed on her. She was way too drunk to be dealing with... seat belts. Once freed, Kitty lowered herself out of the Jeep. Her skirt hiked up her thighs as she slid down, and she was suddenly _very_ aware of just how mini it was. She tugged it down as far as it would stretch, and sent a quick thank you to whoever was listening that Lance had been facing the other way. "Did we break down?" she called, her voice thick with sleep. Lance just kept walking, as if she wasn't even there. Kitty stuck her tongue out at his back and then she followed him grudgingly across the lot. The pavement had kept in the summer sun's heat and was warm against her feet, because - for some ungodly reason - she was also barefoot. Another plus about Lance walking away from her: he couldn't see her slightly unsteady footing. "Last time I let Boom Boom talk me into _anything_," she muttered.

When they came to a plain, unmarked service door, Kitty realized that they'd walked up to the back entrance. Lance stopped at the door and started fishing in his jeans pocket.

"_Seriously_, Lance? You're breaking into an auto repair?"

Lance produced a set of keys with a pointedly loud jangle and inserted them into the door with a sharp twist.

Kitty gaped.

"I work here," he said, taking visible satisfaction in her shock.

"You what?"

Lance pushed his way inside and flipped a switch. Before the halogen lights had even buzzed to life, Kitty took in the smell of motor oil, must, and metal. Peering around Lance's back, she found the inside of a stereotypical mom and pop auto shop. A beat up Jetta was parked inside, along with what looked like one of the flat, square scooters she used to ride in middle school PE classes. Engine parts and tools were spread out on the floor. In the back, she thought she could make out a counter with a sink and refrigerator nearby, and next to that a door that was tabled TOILETS.

"You got a job," she said flatly.

"Nice one, Einstein."

"You didn't tell me."

"You didn't ask. Sit over there," he jerked his head at a small workbench and table along the left-side wall. Like most of the garage, the table was covered with parts and tools. But, without seeing any alternative, Kitty went over to it and sat, studying her surroundings. Once she looked past the clutter, she noticed the garage was actually a large, open plan. There was a flight of stairs along the opposite wall that looked like it might lead to a loft space, but from her low vantage point she couldn't see clearly what was up there.

Kitty pulled at a loose thread on her mini skirt, shifting it down to ward her knees again. The more she sat, the more anxious she got about at the whole situation. Alone with Lance, after she'd promised that she'd stay away from him until the whole missing-powers-thing was sorted out. Maybe even longer.

Suddenly, Kitty was annoyed. Angry, even. At herself for making the promise and then for breaking it. At Javelin for sneaking into a club and getting so stupidly drunk. At Tabitha. At Scott. Even at the Professor for making her promise to do something that should have been simple as breathing and but that everyone knew she'd never been able to manage: Stay away from Lance Alvers. She was angry at him too. Stupid, fucking Lance with his stupid sober bullying and his superior strength and his stupid, sardine-can of a car. Lance, who was complicated and a jerk and sometimes sweet and funny and wonderful. Even when he didn't know what he was doing, he made everything harder.

"So," Kitty said, catty. "Why am I here?"

Apparently, there was something in the fridge that was much more interesting than she was. Or else, Lance was just ignoring her again. Eventually he emerged with a loaf of wonder bread and a beer. He produced plastic solo cup from a cupboard and filled it with tap water. "Well, you ain't going to be sick in the Brotherhood's bathroom. And personally, I'd rather _not_ get a laser beam through my face when the X-Geeks try to take me down for crunching a blade of grass on their perfect lawn." He came over and cleared some table surface with a sweep of his arm, setting the bread and water down in front of her. "Here."

"Always a classy date," Kitty said, dryly. She thumbed the tab off the Wonder Bread and pulled out a slice, holding it up like an oversized playing card between two fingers. "Got a toaster?"

"Nope," Lance said, sitting across from her. He used the edge of the table to pop the cap off his beer. He wasn't quite making eye contact with her, she noticed. Hadn't even looked at her, she realized, since their argument behind the club. "I think we got mustard or something somewhere."

"No thanks," Kitty said dryly, tearing off a piece of bread and pressing it into a cube with her fingers.

Lance stared at her.

"What?"

"Whose the class-act now?"

"It tastes _better_ like this."

"Right."

"And no, I don't only think that when I'm drunk. Drunk-Ish. Don't look at me like that. Try it." She held out the dough-cube, realizing belatedly, distantly, that she shouldn't be offering him Wonder Bread dough cubes. She shouldn't be offering him _anything._

"No thanks," Lance said. "I'm still getting over the last time you said that."

Kitty scowled. "It's bread."

"It _was _bread. You made it into a weird… dough cube… thing. You touched it. You _cooked_ it."

"This is hardly cooking."

He stared stubbornly back at her.

"_Fine_," Kitty snapped. "Pearls before swine and all." She jammed the cube into her mouth and chewed.

"You're never actually eaten anything you've baked, have you?" Lance challenged, sipping his beer.

"Have too."

"You're a liar."

She wrinkled her nose at him. "Whatever. Anyway, you're not supposed to eat your own food. You supposed to bake for other people."

"Yeah well do other people a favor and _don't_. Drink your water."

"At least I'm not kidnapping other people to my abandoned garage."

"It's not mine. I just work part-time shifts when they need someone."

"The fact that you work at all blows my mind."

"You'd rather I stole?" he said dryly.

Kitty kneaded another dough cube in her fingers. She could feel the food and the situation starting to sober her up. Under the circumstances, she wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing. "Lance the part-time auto mechanic. Has kind of an appropriate ring to it." She chewed the bread deliberately and did her best to ignore the bite in her words. She'd always had a talent for being cruel to Lance, even when she wasn't trying.

"Not all of us have a fat savings account for college."

"Or, there's this thing called state school," Kitty said. "You might have heard about it. It's pretty much free."

"Nothing's free," Lance volleyed. "And you'd know it if you didn't have Daddy Xavier paying for everything. 'Sides, not like I'm going back in a classroom again. Been there. Tried that. No thanks."

Kitty scowled, hating the way Lance tried to make her feel like a sheltered princess who didn't know what the real world was like. "It's not like it's easy, you know. Being an X-Man and a college student is demanding."

"I'll bet," Lance said, sipping his beer. "So demanding you're getting wasted at clubs on Friday night. Life's being real hard on you, isn't it?"

Kitty glowered at him.

Lance glowered right back, but still without quite meeting her eyes. After a heated moment, he took a long swig from his beer, set it firmly to the side, and starting piecing together the transmission parts that were lying on the table between them. Kitty got the distinct impression that he was busying his hands so he wouldn't set off a round of tremors.

She watched him work, scowling. Her head rushed with a slew of different insults and comebacks, none of which she really wanted to say. Instead she watched Lance's hands as they worked over the device, piecing it together, deliberately ignoring her. It was a slow, detailed process, with a lot of different tools and a cleaning cloth involved. Kitty realized as she watched that she didn't think she'd ever seen Lance do something that required so much patient diligence. At some point though, she realized, he must have taught himself how to play the guitar.

Eventually, Kitty felt her anger collapse into fuming, then frustration and tequila-soaked tiredness. She watched Lance reassemble the transmission, sipping occasionally from his beer. Grease and motor oil had smudged along his fingers, black as crow feathers.

"We fight all the time now."

Lance looked up at her, catching himself just shy of her eyes.

"I mean," Kitty blinked, chin cradled in her hand, realizing she'd spoken aloud. "That's _all _we do. In high school we used to like… get along sometimes."

"You mean when you weren't shutting me down all the time."

"Half of that was a game," Kitty said, in a _lets just get over it and call a spade a spade _kind of way. "We used to talk on the phone until like, one in the morning. Remember?"

A faint smile touched the corner of his mouth then, and Kitty felt the easing of a tightness in her chest that she hadn't even realized was there.

"Actually," Lance said, "you did most of the talking. I pretty much listened."

"Oh, really? And, uh, how many outgoing calls did you have listed on your phone bill?" She asked innocently.

Lance groaned, covering his eyes with a grease-streaked hand. She curbed a drunken instinct to lean forward and touch his smile, a real smile, as it widened under his palm. "Don't even," Lance groaned. "Pietro went through the roof – he nearly talked me into robbing a gas station to cover it."

Kitty laughed outright. And then they were laughing together. And after a moment, it somehow became awkward. As if they'd both just remembered they were supposed to be mad at each other. Kitty's laugh waned into a giggle, a nervous one. She reached for her water. _Oh my God, Kitty Pryde, _a voice screamed inside head as she guzzled the tepid water. _What the _hell_ are you doing?_

"It's cool. This space," Kitty said, changing subject abruptly once she couldn't drink anymore. "I still can't imagine you working here though." _Or working at all._

"Yeah, well," Lance shrugged. He looked almost embarrassed under all that careful nonchalance. "It's part time. Just to cover the bills. The guys can't get used to it either, if it makes you feel any better. They keep trying to get me fired."

Kitty raised her eyebrows.

"They want to throw a party behind the manager's back," Lance explained. "_Come on, Lance_. _It'll be_ fun, they say."

"Oh my God. You totally should."

Lance looked surprised for a moment, but then grinned slowly. "You're trying to get me fired too."

"Like you've never been fired before." Kitty stood up with her water still in hand, walking out to as close to the middle of the workspace as she could get. She stopped barefoot by the gutted Jetta and looked around. "Dance floor: right here. Massive speakers: over there. This whole place lit up. It would be killer."

"Killer on my paychecks, especially. Drink your water."

"I'm not thirsty."

"It's not about being thirsty. It's about avoiding the massive hangover you're headed for tomorrow."

She stuck her tongue out at him but took a swig. Then she lent back against the hood of the car, trying to ignore the way she swayed slightly as she did. "Well, if you ever _do_ decide you're quitting, you should throw a party. Best resignation notice ever."

"Why didn't you phase out."

Kitty looked at him before her brain got the chance to catch up and tell her that was a horrible idea. Lance was watching her from the workbench, the transmission completely discarded. When Kitty looked at him, he looked back. Looked her straight in the eye, exactly what he'd been avoiding all night. Stupidly, the eye contact caught her off guard and it made her blush. And, even more stupidly, Lance noticed. Kitty looked belatedly at her feet. Lance stood.

"I told you," she said, heart going walnut-sized in her chest, grip crushing on the solo cup. "I didn't want to give myself away."

"No," he said. "Not then. With me. Why didn't you use your powers and phase away from me."

Holy shit. Kitty's heart downsized to acorn. Lance knew. '_I knew it,_' he'd said to her in the parking lot. _Of course he fucking knows_, a voice berated inside her head. _He knows you better than anyone thinks, and you've given him plenty of chances to figure it out._ _If you'd only done what the Professor and Scott asked… _

"You said you didn't want to come with me, but you didn't phase out of the car. You made that big, dramatic show of fighting it out with me in the parking lot. But all you had to do was slip your wrist through my hand and nobody would have known."

"I was drunk," she said, trying to cut him off, and knowing that wasn't going to be a good enough reason. He might believe it, had already suggested it once, she remembered. But it still wasn't good enough.

"At the Institute, you slapped me," he continued.

"Lance-"

"After I kissed you."

"I don't-"

"But all you needed to do was phase away," he said it again.

He was moving closer to her, she registered in some far away part of her brain. That was bad. For a split second of drunk panic, she thought about chucking her water at him to get some distance. Instead, she swallowed and tried to clear her head. "I don't know what you want from me," she said.

"Just admit it."

Kitty was going to be sick. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You do."

"I don't-"

"Just admit it, Kitty!" he hissed. "Just fucking admit it!"

"_What_!" She screamed. But honestly, she was going to be sick. _Admit it, Kitty! Just admit that you don't have any powers_!

"Just admit that you're playing with me!"

Kitty looked up. "Wh-what?"

"You heard me," he said, voice low and his eyes deadly dark and challenging and maybe just a touch wounded. (And that was the part that frightened her most. Because when Lance Alvers was wounded, he didn't carry himself home to lick away the sting. He came swinging right around to tip the scales back into his favor, and drew blood from anything and anyone he could).

Kitty stared, having no idea what she was meant to say. _Oh my God_, she thought, looking at him. _Is he even really wrong? _

Lance searched her face. Apparently he didn't like what he found. "Pietro was right," he said suddenly, looking away. "Everything he's ever said about you was right."

"What? What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Lance said, voice tight, "that the only reason you've ever given me the time of day is 'cause you get off on the idea of being chased by a kid from the wrong side of the tracks."

_Wrong_. Kitty thought, gaping at him. _How did you get to be so wrong?_

"That's it, isn't it? That's why you play these fucking games with me. Well, admit it. You don't give a shit about me. You've _never_-"

"I told you I didn't _want _to play games!" Kitty was shouting now. "That's why I called us off!"

"Oh, yeah?" Lance challenged. "Then why? Why bother to put up that stupid, flirting fight with me in the parking lot, and let me kiss you at all on the soccer field, when we _both_ know you could just phase straight through me and never let me touch you again?"

_Great questions_, Kitty thought. _I wish I could tell you the answer. _

_"_Well, Kitty? Got a good reason for that one?"

She saw his hatred for her in his face, his immoveable resentment and thought again that she might be sick.

"I… don't," Kitty answered. "I just _don't_, okay?"

"No," Lance said. "It's not fucking _okay_."

"Look, I'm sorry," Kitty flared. "I'm sorry, alright? But if you think after all these years that I don't… I don't… care about you then you're stupider than I thought! I… care about you, Lance." She nearly choked on the words. Funny how lies flew out of her mouth when she was facing Lance, but the truth had always tied itself in knots and gotten stuck in her throat until it was near unrecognizable. _Be responsible, _she reminded herself, _you made a promise to your family. Keep it. _She took a breath. She couldn't be honest with Lance. But she could try to come as close as she could. "I _care_ about you, Lance. But I just... I can't."

"Because I'm not good enough," he finished.

She stood, unable to deny it. _It isn't that you're not good enough, _she thought_. You just aren't_ good. He wasn't good. He hurt people, destroyed things. She couldn't trust him. And it should have killed whatever was between them years ago. But somehow, it hadn't.

"And you wonder why all we do is fight," he said, suddenly close enough that she could feel the heat from his skin. Lance's voice had gone low and grim.

Kitty closed her eyes, taking a moment to clear her head. "I'm sorry. I gave you my reasons."

"Funny, all I seem to remember is getting slapped."

"You weren't listening."

"I'm listening now," he said. "Run it by me again. This time without the five-star to the face."

She took another breath and swallowed. She could do this. Again. "Things are different," she recited. "We're not in high school anymore. We're adults. We've got responsibilities." _And I can't even trust you with the biggest event of my life. I can't trust you at all. _

"Right. Sorry. You looked really adult and responsible tonight, staggering out of a club with some drunk guy making a pass at you, and your ex having to come to your rescue."

Kitty wrinkled her nose at him. "What a hero."

Lance stared her down until the sarcasm drained out of her, and she stood there, vulnerable and hating it. "Lance-"

"I would've killed that kid," he said, voice as quiet as stars burning out.

"…Yeah. That would have been _great_," she laughed, feeling close to tears.

"It probably would have made me feel a little better," he said, matter-of-fact. "I'm fucking angry."

"You usually are."

"You _are_ playing with me, aren't you?" The resentment was still there this time, but it was tired this time, and coupled with something new. It sounded a lot like resignation.

_No. _Kitty wanted to say it, burned to even. But she couldn't. Because then she'd have to explain the real reason. And it wasn't just her safety that was at stake.

"You're right. We don't make sense," Lance said suddenly. "I've never understood us."

"It's not so hard," she said, trying to smile and feeling it stretch too thin across her face_._ "We just don't work."

"Yeah. You're adult. I'm irresponsible. You're an X-Man. I'm a Brotherhood punk. You've said it before. We still end up like _this_." He gestured to the narrow space between them. To being alone together in an empty garage. To the heat in Kitty's cheeks that she swore he must have been able to feel radiating off her face. "I've never fucking gotten us. I hate it."

The tiredness in his voice made her look into his eyes again. For once, she knew exactly what Lance was trying to say. And maybe it was the alcohol, or the guilt, or the weeks of worrying whether she'd be normal for the rest of her life, but she didn't want to lie to him, or to herself, again tonight. Not about this one small thing, in this one moment. She was too tired of it.

"I miss you too," she said softly. "Sometimes."

"All the time," Lance said, not having any of it. He closed the small space between them.

Kitty tensed as he closed his around her, shifting her off the hood of the car and into his arms. Her own arms spread out, useless. One hand held her water awkwardly out to the side. The other moved to lightly touch on Lance's waist, unsure if it was readying to pull him closer or push him away. "Lance-"

"Kitty," he interrupted, and when he pulled back it was only to smooth the hair from her face before bringing his to hers. "Shut up."


End file.
